


Part I: Beginnings; the Story of Shmi Skywalker

by chainsawdog



Series: Rewriting History [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 64
Words: 38,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6211618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chainsawdog/pseuds/chainsawdog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shmi Skywalker is freed from slavery, she takes it upon herself to help the Galaxy. With the help of her friends; ex-slaves, Jedi, soldiers, and politicians, Shmi sets out to stop the slave trade in the Outer Rim. At first, it seems as though Shmi has assigned herself a hopeless task. Corruption has already taken root in the Senate. The plans of the Sith are in play, plans put in motion long before her birth. Yet there is hope; as Shmi makes alliances for herself, she realises that she has a chance. A chance to change the Galaxy for good.</p><p>Part of a planned series, "Rewriting History," which will follow an alternate timeline of Star Wars canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Shmi was nineteen, the ship of her Zygerrian slave-master crashed on the planet of Tatooine. Shmi made sure that her master did not survive.

  
After she was sure the Zygerrian was dead, Shmi searched the wreckage of the small ship. The other slaves she had been transported with had not survived. Shmi felt a twinge of sorrow, overlaid with the thought that perhaps they were better off dead.

  
She took their rations, and whatever else she could find amongst the debris. The suns were setting, but Shmi knew if she stayed with the ship she would die. Or the Zygerrians would find her.

  
She set off with no idea where she would end up.


	2. Chapter 2

The suns were beginning to rise when she first saw signs of civilisation. It seemed to be a village; a small scattering of buildings and ships that, at this time of night, showed little evidence of life. As she had walked through the desert, she had thought of the lies she would have to tell to keep her freedom. When she entered the village she realised that she would have to find someone to lie to, first.  


Shmi stifled a yawn as she stood on the street – well, not a street, really, just a wide bit of dirt between two buildings – and looked around. There were shuttered buildings on either side, and the windows she could see were dark. Squaring her shoulders, and trying to convince herself she wasn’t afraid, Shmi walked on.  


It wasn’t long before she was stopped. An old, sun-wrinkled woman sitting outside a domed house waved her over. She was smoking a pipe in the pale light of the morning, and smiled as Shmi walked up to her. The house was connected to other buildings, with no alleyways between them, but there were clear divisions on either side.  


“It’s a bit early for a walk, isn’t it?” the old woman said. “Sit down, have a rest. You look as though you’ve been up all night.”  


Shmi hesitated.  


The old woman smiled. She patted the step next to her. “I don’t bite,” she said. “My name’s Jira.”  


Shmi stood still, trying to detect any hostility from the old woman. She chose to sit down when she realised that, if it came to a fight, she could easily win.  


“What’s yours?” Jira asked. Shmi looked at her. Jira leaned back a little, giving Shmi space, and her smile softened. “Well, if you don’t want to tell me your name, that’s fine. But you’re not from Mos Espa, are you?”  


Shmi shook her head, but said nothing.  


“Well, that’s all right,” Jira looked out across the road, and said, “I’ve lived here a long time.” She looked back at Shmi. “It’s a better life than I had, so I don’t curse my luck being here rather than…”  


Shmi looked across the road rather than keep her eyes on Jira’s.  


“Well,” Jira said quietly. “I’m sure you don’t need to hear my life story. Do you have food and water, child?”  


Shmi closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. The lady was just being kind, she thought to herself. She nodded.  


“Good,” said Jira. “Water’s the more important of the two, out here.”  


They sat in silence for a while, then Shmi said, “I don’t know where to go.”  


“You’re here, now,” Jira said. “That’s a start. Go from there. What do you do next?”  


Shmi thought about it, looking down at her feet. They were covered in dust. She felt as though the rest of her was, too. “Eat,” she said quietly.  


Jira’s face crinkled as she grinned. “That’s a good step,” she said. “I was going to make breakfast, if you’d care to join me?”  


Shmi had learned to be practical about food, and agreed to eat with the old woman. Still, she was cautious as she followed Jira into her house.  


The room they entered was small, a kitchen, dining room and entryway all in one. To the right was an archway that opened into a small bedroom. Other than a small door at the back of the kitchen, that seemed to be the entire house. Jira gestured for Shmi to sit at the low stone table, as she moved into the kitchen, pulling ingredients from cupboards and utensils from draws. The small kitchen held more than Shmi had expected. She watched as Jira cracked eggs into a wooden bowl, adding various herbs, diced meat and other things. The old woman mixed everything together rapidly, then spilled it onto a hot plate with a sizzle.  


“It’s been a while since I’ve had to cook for someone other than myself,” Jira commented, not looking at Shmi as she cooked. “Mos Espa isn’t a place that lends itself to hospitality.” Here she glanced at Shmi. “But I can see you have no obvious weapons – that doesn’t mean you don’t have weapons, but it makes me less afraid you’d use them.” She laughed, but it was obvious that she was only partially joking.  


“I’m not going to attack you,” Shmi said quietly.  


“That’s good to know.”  


Silence.  


Then, “Shmi.”  


“Hm?”  


“My name,” Shmi turned to look at Jira. “It’s Shmi.”  


“Thank you for telling me,” Jira said, glancing at the quiet young woman who sat at her table. “Shmi. That’s a nice name, although not one I’ve heard before.”  


Shmi looked away, wondering what had prompted her to tell the old woman her name. She was grateful that Jira hadn’t asked for a surname, or even pressed her for her first name. Maybe, too, the fear she thought she had sensed from the old woman was actually Jira’s, not Shmi’s. Sometimes, Shmi was an exceptional judge of character. Sometimes it was almost as if she could sense the intent and emotion of another person. It had saved her life before.  


Jira placed a plate of egg in front of Shmi and sat down across from her. “I hope you enjoy it,” she said. “I enjoy my own cooking, but as I said, it’s been a long time since I ate with someone else.” She handed Shmi a fork, then started on her own meal.  


They ate in silence for a while, Shmi trying to be polite and not shovel the food into her mouth. Twelve years, she thought, since she’d had a home cooked meal. Or had it been longer? She no longer remembered when she had been taken from her family. She could barely remember what her parents had looked like. She finished eating long before Jira, and sat back in her chair.  


“Thank you,” she said.  


“You liked it?” Jira asked, still eating her breakfast. Shmi nodded.  


She watched as Jira finished eating, then watched as Jira took the plates and washed them under running water. Jira brought her a cup of water and sat down once more. “The day is starting,” she said. “Soon, people will be about their business. I have to go to the market, to sell my wares.” She watched Shmi carefully for a reaction. When Shmi said nothing, Jira continued. “If you would like, you could accompany me. That is, assuming, you have nowhere to be any time soon.”  


Shmi looked away again from the woman’s kind gaze.  


“Well, you look tired,” Jira said. “If you want, while I’m at the market, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll lock up the house after I leave, if you don’t mind. You can’t trust everyone in Mos Espa.”  


“I don’t know,” Shmi said quietly.  


“Only,” said Jira. “I should like to know, as I don’t have a spare key, and if you did decide to leave partway through the day I would have no way of knowing if my things were safe.”  


Shmi nodded. “Can I think about it?”  


Jira reached out her hand, but pulled back when she saw Shmi flinch. “Of course,” she said. “I will tell you when I have to leave.”  


Shmi stayed seated at the table as Jira opened the door at the back of the room. It was some sort of large cupboard, and from what Shmi could see, it was packed full of junk. Jira pulled out a large netted bag and started packing things into it.  


She placed the bag on the table, then turned back to the kitchen. There, she took some food wrapped in plastic and tucked it into a pocket on her hip. Turning to face Shmi, she said, “Well. That’s me. Are you coming?”  


Shmi looked at her carefully. In answer, she stood, and walked towards the door. “I’ll follow you,” she said quietly.  


Jira locked the door behind them and slung the bag over her shoulder. Shmi walked almost beside the other woman, observing. There were more people out now, walking or sitting, a few of them heading in the same direction as Shmi and Jira. There were all sorts out and about; Humans, Toydarians, Jawa, and species Shmi didn’t recognise.  


The market was open-air, and already bustling with merchants and buyers. Jira had a destination in mind, and Shmi followed as Jira walked briskly to a stall. Once there, Jira unpacked her wares, and set herself up behind the table. Shmi stood uncertainly next to Jira, but the old woman procured a stool for her to sit on. “There’s no reason you should be uncomfortable,” she said. Shmi sat down, and took a drink of water. The stall was shaded but the day was already heating up. Shmi wondered how much hotter it could get, and how people lived in such a dry place.  


Shmi watched the entire day as Jira sold junk to all sorts of people. A few of them commented on Shmi, but she didn’t respond directly and so Jira claimed Shmi was her niece. “Visiting me from Mos Entha,” she said. That seemed enough for her customers.  


Jira offered to share her lunch with Shmi, but Shmi had brought some of her rations. They didn’t taste like anything at all, but they were filling. She ate while listening to Jira chatter along with her customers. The old woman seemed to know everyone in the marketplace.  


Before the day was over, Jira had convinced Shmi to stay the night at her house. “I can speak to my neighbour, Coris, this afternoon, and talk to him about getting some maps of the area.” When Shmi raised her eyebrow at her, Jira smiled. “So when you leave you don’t get lost,” she explained. “You don’t have to tell me where you’re going.”  


Shmi bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said.  


Shmi stayed with Jira, even after going over the maps. She liked Mos Espa, and Jira made it feel like home. The old woman was patient, and kind, and gentle. Shmi tried to earn her keep by cooking or cleaning, or hauling goods to the market, when Jira would let her. Shmi came to be almost as well known in the marketplace as Jira. For a while, things were peaceful.


	3. Chapter 3

Eri’anya and Gromm – a Zygerrian female proficient with an electro-whip and a Trandoshan with an itchy trigger-finger and a bad attitude – stood over the wreckage of the Zygerrian freighter. Eri’anya put her hands on her hips, scowling, as Gromm began to trawl through the debris. The corpses of the slavers and slaves alike were decomposing rapidly beneath Tatooine’s suns, but they were still identifiable. The slaves by their chips, the slavers by the bands they wore around their wrists.

  
“One survived,” Eri’anya said, looking over the list of slaves. She looked around, the desert stretching in all directions. “She couldn’t have made it far.”

  
Gromm grunted. “Our job was to bring back the slaves or confirmation of their deaths,” he said, standing up. “We take what we need from here and then we find this… Shmi.”

  
Eri’anya sighed, but helped Gromm collect the chips from the corpses. “The closest village is Mos Espa,” Eri’anya said, looking over a chart on her speeder. “I suggest we head there, and activate the tracking device. We shouldn’t have any trouble finding her.”

  
“And if we do?” said Gromm.

  
Eri’anya glared at him, and bared her teeth. “Then we come back here, don’t we? And keep looking until we find her.”


	4. Chapter 4

Shmi shared the dinner she had cooked onto three plates, and brought them to the table. Jira’s daughter, Joi, had come to visit. Joi was older than Shmi, and worked on a freighter ship. She didn’t come home to Tatooine often, but when she did she made sure to visit Mos Espa, and her mother. She’d been delighted to meet Shmi, saying, “It’s nice to know that Mom has someone looking after her.”

  
They sat down together that night to eat, and Joi talked and talked about the places she’d visited since she’d last been home. Shmi found she was interested, wondering if she, too, could travel. She had never even considered that kind of life. Never had that level of freedom.

  
Now, she was free from her masters, and she was slowly realising the truth of that. She didn’t have to stay on Tatooine, not if she didn’t want to. She still feared the jolt of a shock-collar, the pain of an electro-whip landing on her back, the other slaves suffering for her mistakes or insolence – but with Jira she had felt less fear, had fewer nightmares. Jira still knew nothing of Shmi’s past, but she hadn’t badgered her for any details. When Shmi spoke, Jira listened, but Shmi never felt as if she had to speak. It was almost like having a mother, Shmi thought, although she couldn’t remember her own mother.

  
“So,” Joi said, once she’d finished her tale. “What do you do?”

  
Shmi looked at her, but it took her a moment to realise Joi was talking to her. “Oh,” she said. “I – uh.”

  
Joi looked from Jira to Shmi. She smiled widely, and Shmi could see Jira in her face. Both of them had kindly blue eyes and round faces. “As a job?” she prompted.

  
“Shmi does all sorts,” Jira said, helpfully. “I told you, right now she’s helping me at the marketplace.”

  
“Yeah, but that can’t be all you do,” Joi said.

  
“Right now it is,” Shmi didn’t mean to sound rude, but even to her own ears her voice was snappy. Joi stopped asking questions, and Jira didn’t push either of them.

  
The next morning, Joi pulled Shmi aside, to talk to her. “I’m sorry if I was rude last night,” she said. She looked down, thinking of what to say next. Shmi waited. “The freighter I’m flying – we need an extra pair of hands to haul cargo. We’ll be going off-world in three days, stopping on a couple of Mid Rim planets before we get to Coruscant. If you want, if you can work hard, then you can come along?”

  
“You’re offering me a job?” Shmi asked, looking at Joi’s eyes. Joi nodded. Shmi bit her lip and looked away. “I’ll… think about it.”

  
The three of them went to the market together that day, getting to Jira’s stall early. Joi helped them set up, then left on her speeder. She had work to do on Tatooine; trading goods and unloading cargo. Shmi sat with Jira as the market started to fill with people.

  
“Would you take the job Joi offered?” Jira asked quietly.

  
Shmi looked at her, surprised. “I don’t know,” she said, after a moment.

  
“It’s a good opportunity.”

  
“Do you want me to?”

  
Jira studied Shmi’s face. “To leave?” she said. “I don’t mind either way, child. It’s a good opportunity to get off Tatooine and see the galaxy, and you’re only young. You’ll have years ahead of you to be settled somewhere.”

  
“Joi said I had three days to think about it,” Shmi said quietly. “I’ll do that. Think about it.”

  
Jira patted Shmi on the hand.


	5. Chapter 5

“Scum,” Eri’anya said, sneering, looking around at the people of Mos Espa as she and Gromm dismounted their speeders. “Have you activated the tracking beacon yet?”

  
Gromm snarled back and said, “Give me a second.” He pressed a button on his wrist, and a little blue light started flashing slowly. “This’ll tell us when we’re close,” he said. “And by the looks of it, she’s somewhere nearby.”

  
“Well,” Eri’anya said, “Let’s go.”

  
They left their speeders locked by the spaceport and moved on foot. It was dusty, and dirty, and Eri’anya’s eyes stung in the wind. The Trandoshan seemed to be faring fine, much to Eri’anya’s chagrin. She pulled her goggles from her pocket and put them on. It was a relief – she could open her eyes fully and actually see what she was looking for. The slave-girl was human, but there were plenty of humans in Mos Espa, and the scents of the place were chaotic. Neither Eri’anya nor Gromm would have much luck finding her that way. So she followed Gromm, who was watching his wrist as they walked.

  
The road took them through buildings, out into an open marketplace. It was packed full – Eri’anya could barely see for all the heads in her sight. She sighed, and squared her shoulders as she prepared to be jostled by the crowd. Walking behind the broad-shouldered Trandoshan kept some of the crowd away from her, but it was too much to hope she’d have any personal space. She’d never been one for crowded spaces, and unfortunately her job often led her to those. The pay would be good, she told herself, as she followed Gromm through the crowd.

  
“We’re close,” he growled, as they passed yet another row of stalls. Then he stopped, and Eri’anya walked square into his back. She swore, and moved around to look at his wristband. The little blue light on it was flashing rapidly.

  
“Well?” she snapped. “Where is she?”

  
“Give me a second,” Gromm said. He pressed some buttons on the band, and the light went out.

  
“Good job,” Eri’anya scoffed.

  
At a stall nearby, a young woman cried out in pain and fell to the ground, clutching her head.

  
“There’s our slave,” Gromm said. He started forward, pushing through the crowd. Eri’anya followed, noting that no one had rushed to the woman’s aid. Except for the old lady at her stall, and she wouldn’t be a problem.


	6. Chapter 6

“Shmi? Shmi?”  


Shmi could feel Jira’s hands on her arm, she could feel the sand against her skin, but mostly she could feel the pain inside her head. She knew what it was, but there was nothing she could do to fight it. Worse was the fear; they had found her and they would take her back and she would never be a pilot or anything other than a slave.

  
She felt the rough hands slide beneath her, sensed Jira’s fear, heard shouts –

  
_a rock connects with the old woman’s and there’s a scream ___

  
Shmi hears the scream with her own ears, but what she can feel is coming from everywhere

  
_rage  
_

_Jira’s never hurt anyone why would anyone hurt her what are they doing to that woman why would they hurt Jira Jira’s never hurt anyone someone stop them they hurt Jira  
_

Shmi feels the fear and anger from the crowd and she feels her own anger and fear and the thing in her head sparks and she isn’t in pain anymore –


	7. Chapter 7

Gromm dropped the slave for no reason Eri’anya could see. The woman landed on the dirt, curled in a ball, and Eri’anya hissed. “What are you doing?” she said. She could smell the crowd’s fear, and was unnerved. Hurting the old woman had been a mistake. There were already people helping her – and others were sizing the slavers up.

  
“She – she hurt me,” said Gromm. His reptilian eyes were wide, and he held his hands out in front of him. The woman was getting to her feet, and Eri’anya felt her fur stand on end as she realised that Shmi was no longer in pain.

  
She pulled her electro-whip from her belt and charged it up, but as she brought her arm back to whip Shmi, someone grabbed her wrist.

  
“Who do you think you are?” someone shouted.

  
“Leave them alone!”

  
The crowd was riled now, but something held them back from attacking. Shmi stood before both Gromm and Eri’anya, her face thunderous.

  
“You will leave Tatooine,” she said firmly, her voice thick.

  
Another shudder ran through Eri’anya, and she heard herself answer along with Gromm. “We will leave Tatooine.”

  
“You will never come looking for me again.”

  
“We will never come looking for you again.”

  
“You will forget you ever saw me.”

  
A part of Eri’anya twitched, but she couldn’t stop herself. “We will forget we ever saw you.”

  
She felt her feet start walking, saw Gromm ahead of her, and could do nothing as they both headed for their speeders. By the time they reached their vehicles, neither could remember what they had come to Mos Espa for.


	8. Chapter 8

Shmi felt faint, but she kept on her feet. With the help of a stranger – or a customer – she made it to Jira’s side. There was a cut on the old woman’s forehead, but her eyes were open, and she was breathing steadily. Someone had washed the cut, and two other customers sat with Jira, helping her stay upright.

  
“Are you okay?” Shmi asked, cupping Jira’s cheek in her hand.

  
The old woman patted her hand and said, “I was more worried about you. What did those beasts think they were doing, trying to steal you away like that?”

  
Shmi felt something twist inside of her. She took her hand away and looked to the side, unable to watch Jira’s reaction. “I was a slave,” she said. Even saying the word made her feel sick. “They’d come to take me back.”

  
Jira waited until Shmi looked at her, and said, “I see. I was… sold to a man who gave me my freedom, years ago.”

  
Shmi let herself cry.

  
Someone brought them both water, and their neighbour helped them pack their wares away. That day, they went home early. Shmi and Jira walked slowly, both burdened by the hurts of the day. They didn’t speak on their way home, but walked leaning on one another.

  
When they reached the house, they went about unpacking Jira’s goods in silence. Then, they sat at the table, and Jira fixed them tea.

  
“Speak when you can,” Jira said quietly, as she sat down.

  
Shmi wrapped her hands around the mug.

  
“I’ve been free for years,” Jira said quietly. “But I still get those nightmares. It’s not something that leaves you, Shmi, but it’s something that becomes less with time. You learn to live with it, and one day you’ll wake up and realise that you’re free.” She sipped her tea. “By the way,” she said quietly. “What happened today? To make those slavers leave?”

  
Shmi shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I just felt that – what I was saying was the truth. I had to convince them of that, too.”

  
Jira blew gently on her tea to cool it. “I’ve heard of something similar, in legends,” she said. “Tales told of Jedi Knights who could influence a man’s mind to their will. Always thought it was distasteful, and not something that a peacekeeper should do.” She shook her head. “But seeing it turned on those who deserve it… well, maybe it’s a power that could be useful.” She looked carefully at Shmi. “Maybe you should go with my Joi. See the galaxy, and find a Jedi to talk to.” She grinned. “If you can stand talking to any of them, I’ve heard they’re infamously stodgy.”

  
Shmi nodded. “I was thinking I would go with Joi,” she said quietly.


	9. Chapter 9

Joi came back to the house late that night, but Shmi stayed awake to talk to her. Jira had gone to bed, as the two women spoke quietly together.

  
“Well,” Joi said with a smile. She offered her hand and Shmi shook it. “I’ll officially welcome you aboard when we get to the Wren. But for now let me say, I think you’ve made a good choice, Shmi.”

  
“Thank you,” Shmi said. “For giving me that choice.”


	10. Chapter 10

The _Wren ___was a Starlight-class freighter, Joi told Shmi, and captained by a Rodian named Jintoo Cale. Meeting Jintoo was an experience for Shmi, who’d never seen a Rodian up close before. No one had told her that they had galaxies in their eyes.

  
The other members of the crew weren’t as friendly as Joi, but they weren’t cruel, and Shmi realised quickly that as long as she did her work well she would be fine. There were only eight other crew on the freighter, not counting the droids.

  
They left Tatooine once the cargo was loaded, and Shmi was allowed to explore the ship. Most of the free space was taken up by crates. Other than the captain, who got her own room, the crew had to share a sleeping and dining area. It was cramped, and one of the crew was a big hairy beast who smelled kind of funny, but it was better than Shmi had dared to hope.

  
Joi introduced Shmi to the rest of the crew. “This is Shmi,” she said, then she looked at Shmi. “I never asked your last name, I’m sorry.”

  
Shmi smiled. “I don’t have one,” she said.

  
Joi frowned, then shrugged and turned back to the crew. They introduced themselves one by one. There was one other human, Joi’s husband Dain Chasta. He was dark-skinned, and wore his black hair in braids, and Shmi was charmed by his dazzling smile.

  
There were two married Twi’lek women, who introduced themselves as Val and Zana Shinte. One of the women was bright pink, the other a dark green. Shmi had met Twi’lek before, and knew a few words of their language. She delighted them by greeting them haltingly in their own tongue.

  
The big hairy creature was a Lasat, and a mechanical engineer, by the name of Rip. That was the only name she gave, and Shmi was more than happy to accept it, considering Rip stood a metre taller than her and was bulging with muscles.

  
Shmi was already struggling to remember all the new names as the others introduced themselves. Ryn and Kaz Rato, twins with blue skin and yellow face patterning, told Shmi they came from Pantora. A green-skinned man with geometrical facial tattoos introduced himself as Durandal Moonrunner. The last one to introduce themselves was a brown-and-black skinned near human with a crown of horns growing from their head. The name they offered was Tye, and like Rip and Shmi, they had no last names.

  
Once the introductions were over Shmi was grateful to sit down. It had only taken a minute or two for Joi to introduce her to the crew, but all the names were running over each other in her head and she still wasn’t sure which name went with which face. The crew didn’t seem concerned, sitting down with her and chatting away. It was hard to keep up with the conversation as it jumped from topic to topic; they spoke with the ease of old friends, and seemed to forget that Shmi was new there.

  
The Lasat, Rip, was cooking for everyone, and offered to let Shmi have the first taste of the stew she was making. Shmi looked around, and got an encouraging smile from the pink-skinned Twi’lek and Joi. She took a spoonful and blew on it carefully, then put the spoon in her mouth. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and she sat there for a moment, overwhelmed by the taste. It was one of the best things she’d ever eaten.

  
“That good, hey?” she heard one of them say, and the crew laughed. Her face flushed red and she handed the spoon back to Rip without a word.

  
The Lasat clapped her on the shoulder, not noticing how she flinched. “That’s the best reaction I’ve had on this trip!”

  
Shmi knew the Lasat was being friendly, but that didn’t stop her heart from racing. With such a small gesture, everything became a threat. She was outnumbered, and stuck in a confined space with nowhere to run.

  
The bowl in front of her rattled.

  
“You all right?” one of the Pantorans spoke, Shmi could see them at the edge of her vision, but she couldn’t make herself respond.

  
“Shmi?” Joi’s voice, from far away. A hand on her shoulder. “Shmi, are you okay?”

  
White noise rang in her ears.

  
The next thing she remembered, she was sitting against a wall, a cloth draped across her forehead. Joi and Dain were both crouched in front of her, looking concerned.

  
“Shmi?” Joi said softly. “You – are you back with us?”

  
Shmi nodded. Her head was pounding. “I don’t know what happened,” she said.

  
Joi glanced at Dain, and said, “Neither – we’re not sure, either. You sort of stopped responding and then…” Joi shifted a little to show Shmi the dining room. The wall opposite to where Shmi had been sitting, there was broken crockery. It didn’t look as if anyone had been injured. “Well, you went one way, and the dishes went the other.”

  
“Like an explosion,” the green Twi’lek said. “Except. Well, with no actual explosion.”

  
Dain and Joi helped Shmi to her feet. “Well,” Shmi said quietly. “No point in everyone else cleaning up after me.” She started towards the mess, but swayed a little. Joi caught her elbow and helped her steady herself.

  
“You can’t clean up if you can’t stand,” Rip said evenly. “Don’t worry about that just now. Maybe you should get some sleep.”

  
Shmi nodded, and with Joi’s help she left the dining area and made her way to her bunk.


	11. Chapter 11

Other than the first incident at dinner, the rotations passed without any sort of odd occurrence. It was hard to gauge how the crew felt about her, but after a while she found it didn’t matter. Some of them liked her well enough; Joi and Dain and the pink Twi’lek woman, Zana. Rip seemed to like everyone, and after the first dinner was respectful of Shmi’s personal space. Shmi couldn’t tell the twin Pantorans apart, and they didn’t make an effort to make it easier for her.

  
Shmi worked as hard as any of the crew, and had earned Jintoo’s respect by the second rotation. She overheard the captain talking to Joi, telling her she’d done a good job at choosing another crew member.

  
When they reached Coruscant, after unloading the ship’s cargo, Shmi was pulled aside by the Captain. “I wanted to pay you myself,” she said. “The others have bank accounts I’ve wired their credits to, but Joi tells me you don’t have one.”

  
Shmi took the credits, and said, “When do you want me back?”

  
Jintoo looked at Shmi carefully. “You want a full-time job then?”

  
“If you’d have me.”

  
“We’re gonna be docked here for a while. I’ve got people to talk to and contracts to negotiate. You can stay with the ship for that time or take shore-leave. I’ll comm you when I need you.”

  
“I don’t have a comm,” Shmi replied quietly.

  
The Captain studied her. “Well,” she said. “I’ll meet you back here this afternoon. You take those credits and buy yourself a comm. When you come back, we’ll connect it to the ship’s radio, and then I can contact you before we leave. How does that sound?”

  
Shmi nodded.

  
She left the spaceport giddy with the idea of having her own money.


	12. Chapter 12

Shmi got lost almost immediately in the busy city streets of Coruscant. In some ways they reminded her of the cities in Zygerria, but here everything was made of glass, concrete and transparisteel. There were people everywhere, and none of them gave her a second look, although she was dressed poorly compared to most of them.

  
She was wandering through the industrial area of Galactic City when two men started following her. She was still in a crowded area, and hoped they wouldn’t try anything while she was in the open. She had no weapon, and no allies.

  
Without warning, a third man dressed in dark brown robes started walking beside her. “Hello,” he said. She didn’t look at him, struggling to control her fear. “You’re aware you’re being followed?”

  
Her eyes flicked towards him, and she said, “You’re doing a poor job of it, you and your friends.”

  
Shmi wanted to hit him when he smiled.

  
“I’m not following you,” he said. “I’m walking with you.” He pushed his robe aside to reveal a shiny tube on his hip. When she didn’t react, he said, “You don’t know what this is, do you?”

  
Shmi shrugged.

  
“It’s a lightsaber.”

  
“I still don’t know what that is,” she said.

  
“It’s a Jedi’s weapon,” he explained. “You might have noticed, when I started talking to you, those men left.”

  
“I might have,” said Shmi. “Are you saying you’re a Jedi?”

  
“I might be,” the man’s smile was cocky.

  
“I’m not saying thank you,” Shmi said, looking at him properly. He had dark, short-cropped hair, with a braid hanging down the right side of his head. His chin and upper lip were showing the signs of a patchy beard and moustache. His eyes were blue-grey, and although he looked to be around her age, there were laughter lines around his eyes and mouth.

  
“You don’t have to,” he said. “That wasn’t why I started talking to you.”

  
“Well then, why did you?”

  
“Oh, this is a good place to eat,” he said. “Would you like to join me for lunch?” Flashing credits at her, he said, “I can pay.”

  
She looked at him, trying to detect a trick. He simply smiled, in what he probably thought was a charming way.

  
“Fine,” she said. “If you explain yourself to me while we eat.”

  
She followed him into a diner, where he was greeted enthusiastically by a giant four-armed chef. “Qui-Gon!” the chef said, and they hugged.

  
“Dex!” the man said. “Nice to see you. How’s business?”

  
“Good, good,” Dex replied, leading them to a booth. “Who’s your lady friend? Another Jedi-in-training?”

  
“I’m Shmi,” she introduced herself, sitting down opposite to Qui-Gon and Dex. “And I just met your friend.”

  
“Shmi!” Dex held out a hand, and she shook it. “A pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Qui-Gon’s is a friend of mine.”

  
She listened to them chat for a moment, waiting for Dex to leave so she could talk to Qui-Gon. He did, eventually, and when he was out of earshot, Shmi said, “So what are you trying to pull, here?”

  
To his benefit, Qui-Gon looked genuinely surprised. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  
“Why did you join me on the street, and why did you invite me to lunch, and what are you trying to get from me?”

  
“I don’t want anything from you,” he said. “I just didn’t want you to get attacked.”

  
“So. Your name is Qui-Gon,” she said. “And you’re a Jedi?”

  
“A Padawan, but yes,” said Qui-Gon. “Qui-Gon Jinn.” He held his hand out for Shmi to shake, and said, “A pleasure to meet you.”

  
“Shmi,” she said, shaking his hand.

  
“Just Shmi?”

  
“I don’t have a last name,” she said, “I’m tired of people asking for one.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon replied. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  
She sighed. The waiter brought food to their table, and she ate quietly while Qui-Gon waited. After a moment of silence, she said, “You weren’t. Rude, that is. And I could use your help, if you know the area?”

  
“Of course,” he said.

  
“I need to buy a commlink.”  
Qui-Gon accompanied Shmi to the stores, and helped her find a comm that was compatible with the _Wren_. They talked a little about space-travel, and Qui-Gon told her of his Jedi Master, Dooku.

  
“What do you do? As a Jedi?” Shmi asked. They were walking through a nicer part of the market district, a garden shaded by tall, old trees. Qui-Gon walked with his hands in his sleeves, his arms folded. Shmi walked with her arms crossed. “And what _is_ a lightsaber?”

  
“We are peacekeepers,” Qui-Gon explained.

  
“The Galaxy isn’t at peace,” Shmi pointed out. “There are pirates, and slavers, and battles on the Outer Rim.”

  
Qui-Gon nodded. “We do what we can,” he said quietly. “Master Dooku thinks we could do more, and sometimes his ideas… clash with those of Master Yoda and the Jedi Council.” Shmi thought of the people who had been in charge of her life, and shuddered. Qui-Gon seemed to catch the feeling, and smiled at her kindly. “It’s not so bad,” he said. “Master Dooku has taught me that, in the moment, you must follow your instincts, not the rules. The Jedi Code is important, but sometimes it cannot be… _applied_ how the Council would like.” His smile changed to a grin as he added, “Master Dooku has also taught me it’s easier to ask forgiveness than beg permission.”

  
Shmi frowned at that. “That’s not true.”

  
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  
“If you hurt someone badly, then forgiveness isn’t something you can ask.”

  
Qui-Gon stopped walking, and looked at Shmi closely. “That is true. But that is not the forgiveness I meant. The Jedi Council must approve of certain actions undertaken by Jedi like my Master and myself. We follow a Code for a reason.”

  
Shmi returned Qui-Gon’s look. “The Jedi are useless,” she said. Qui-Gon’s eyes opened wide, and she said, “The Galaxy isn’t at peace, peacekeeper.”

  
“And that is why we’re needed,” Qui-Gon said. “Jedi like my Master, who will go to the Outer Rim and help the people there.”

  
“This planet is nothing like I’ve ever seen,” Shmi said. “There are so many people, and so many buildings, and it’s overwhelming. I can almost feel all the life here. It’s… strange. And I don’t think it’s peaceful here, either. It’s not as obvious as somewhere like Zygerria, or Tatooine, but there’s crime here, and bad people.”

  
“When were you on Zygerria?” Qui-Gon asked. “Isn’t that a slave planet?”

  
Shmi felt her face go blank, and she stared at Qui-Gon until he looked away.

  
“Never mind that,” he said. “I know what you mean about Coruscant. I wish there was more I could do.”

  
Shmi took a deep breath in, and when she let it out, she smiled. “You did help me, today,” she said. “Maybe you’ll help the rest of the Galaxy, one day.”


	13. Chapter 13

Qui-Gon accompanied her back to the spaceport, saying that he was in no great rush to be anywhere in particular. He openly admired the _Wren_ , talking brightly about the sort of ships he’d flown on with his Master. He greeted Captain Jintoo with golden words, charming the Rodian woman into letting him onto her ship. She took them both to the cockpit, to tune Shmi’s commlink to the ship’s radio.

  
“I didn’t know you had friends on Coruscant,” Jintoo commented.

  
“I don’t,” Shmi said.

  
“We met today,” Qui-Gon explained. “I am a Jedi, Captain, and aided Shmi in her search for a commlink.”

  
Shmi was still not sure if he was acting or actually spoke like that all the time.

  
“That was gallant of you,” Jintoo replied dryly. Shmi laughed, and to his credit, Qui-Gon smiled. “There,” Jintoo handed Shmi the comm. “That’s configured. You have somewhere to spend the night?”

  
Shmi shook her head.

  
“You can sleep on the ship,” Jintoo said, glancing at Qui-Gon. Looking back at Shmi, she continued, “Just you.”

  
Shmi raised her eyebrows, and crossed her arms. “What, did you think I’d invite him back with me?”

  
Jintoo laughed aloud, and looked at Qui-Gon, “How do you feel about that?” she asked.

  
Shmi looked at Qui-Gon too, and was surprised to see he was blushing, just a little. “I wasn’t expecting anything different,” he said. “And besides, I have to return to the Temple soon. It’s a rest day, but Master Dooku likes us to meet in the evenings to train.”

  
“I’d still like to see more of Coruscant,” Shmi said quietly. “I don’t know my way around yet.”

  
When they parted that day, Qui-Gon and Shmi connected their commlinks so they could meet again the next time he was free.


	14. Chapter 14

“Someone told me I should find a Jedi,” she said, after a moment of silence.

  
They were walking down a crowded street, Shmi looking in all the windows of the stores they passed. She had been on Coruscant for three rotations, and Qui-Gon had contacted her to ask if she wished to meet on the third day. “My Master has business with the Jedi Council, so I have the day free,” he had said. So Shmi had agreed to meet him at the spaceport, as she still didn’t know how to find the Temple. He had told her it was only accessible by Jedi and those invited by Jedi, and she had commented that it seemed exclusive.

  
“Someone told you that?” he asked. “Why do you think they told you to find a Jedi?”

  
Shmi looked at him carefully, and saw nothing that indicated a trap. “First,” she said, “Tell me. Do you consider me a friend?”

  
Qui-Gon seemed to give the question serious consideration. “I believe, in the capacity that Jedi can have friends, I consider you a friend, yes.”

  
“What do you mean, when you say that? Jedi can’t have friends?”

  
“We are not supposed to form attachments,” Qui-Gon said. “Although Master Dooku believes that our Code has changed over time, that in some cases attachment can aid a Jedi in their work – as long as we are able to move on. I myself believe that every Jedi has an attachment they cannot deny. One to the Galaxy.”

  
Shmi smiled, and said, “That’s idealistic, Qui-Gon. Do other Jedi agree with you?”

  
Qui-Gon shook his head. “I wouldn’t share these… ideas with others of the Order. I know they’re my own. Master Dooku…” he sighed. “He told me that the Order will not change unless all the Jedi see what needs to change, and he doesn’t have faith that will happen. In some ways, I agree with him.”

  
“But not in others.”

  
“Shall we find somewhere to eat?”

  
Shmi knew Qui-Gon was changing the subject, but she allowed it. She carried a handful of credits with her; the rest of her pay was stashed in the pillow of her bunk.

  
Qui-Gon took her to a café that day, and he was recognised there, too. They sat outside, beneath the shade of a tree, and Qui-Gon paid for the meal.

  
“So,” Qui-Gon said, as they waited for the food. “Are you going to tell me why you had to find a Jedi?”

  
Shmi leaned back in her chair. “Something that happened on Tatooine,” she said. “I… well, I convinced two people to leave me alone. To forget me.”

  
“That doesn’t sound so odd,” Qui-Gon replied.

  
“I told them; you will leave me alone, and they repeated my words, then left me alone. The woman on Tatooine, Jira, she told me it reminded her of a Jedi legend.”

  
Qui-Gon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and propped his chin on his hands. “That sounds familiar,” he said. “A mind trick. I haven’t mastered it, but Jedi can… convince another by manipulating the Force. Like this,” he lifted his right hand and gestured slightly. “You will tell me your name.”

  
Something in Shmi’s head seemed to twitch, and she struggled to contain herself. “I… will…” she tried to take hold of her own mind, but to no avail. “I will tell you my name. Shmi.” She stood, her heart racing, her face hot. “You couldn’t have just explained it? You think the Jedi are peacekeepers, manipulating people like that?” She wanted to hit him, to throw something at him. “How dare you? You do this to people, make them agree with you? Make them do your bidding?”

  
Qui-Gon’s eyes were wide, but he did not speak as Shmi continued.

  
“You tell me you think of me as a friend, then invade my mind? I would not even do that to an enemy!” she slowed herself, as she recalled how the subject had come up. She sat down, saying, “I did that to someone?”

  
Qui-Gon waited, looking at her evenly. His face betrayed no emotions.

  
“They were slavers,” she said darkly. “Not friends, not enemies. Monsters.”

  
He remained silent.

  
“Are you going to apologise?” she asked. “What you did was not okay, Qui-Gon. I feel sick.”

  
“I am truly sorry,” said Qui-Gon. “I did not… I am sorry, I did not know. That it would work. It is a part of the Force that I have never been strong in.”

  
Shmi glared at him. “Yet you tried anyway.”

  
“I did. And I am more sorry for that than I can express. There is nothing I can say or do to make that hurt less.”

  
Shmi looked away from him. “I don’t forgive you,” she said.

  
“I understand,” he said gently.

  
“No,” Shmi said, looking into his eyes. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t understand.”

  
Qui-Gon nodded. He remained silent as the waiter placed their food on the table. When the waiter had left, he said, “No. I haven’t lived your life. I have never encountered slavers. I do not know how I would react if I did. But I should not have used a mind-trick on you.”

  
His words were sincere, and his tone gentle, but her trust in him had been shaken. They ate their meals in silence, and when they were finished, Shmi said, “Farewell, Qui-Gon.”

  
Qui-Gon seemed to know he was being dismissed. He stood, inclined his head, and left. Shmi made her own way back to the spaceport.

  
Shmi did not see him again before the _Wren_ left Coruscant.


	15. Chapter 15

Shmi chose the name ‘Skywalker’ on her travels through the stars. As a slave, she had not had a surname. As a free woman, she could call herself whatever she liked. The crew of the _Wren_ agreed that it was a suitable name, Rip going so far as to joke that they should share it. That was on Shmi’s twenty-first birthday. Rip and Zana dished up quite a feast to celebrate, and Captain Jintoo came down to the crew’s quarters to dine with them.

  
In the years that Shmi had travelled with the _Wren_ , the crew had changed very little. Joi and Dain had left, to settle down on Tatooine and raise their child. When they had dropped the couple off on the desert planet, Shmi had visited Jira. The old woman had been glad to see her.

  
Things in Mos Espa, she had said, had not changed. The Hutts were getting bolder across Tatooine, and crime becoming more prevalent, but Mos Espa didn’t seem to be any different. Shmi had mentioned Coruscant, and Jira had asked her if she had meet any Jedi. Shmi had only told Jira that the Jedi seemed standoffish and rude, living in a temple almost no one could visit. Jira had sighed, saying, “I’d hoped the good legends about them were true. Maybe I should have given more thought to the more unpleasant stories.”

  
The _Wren_ stopped on Tatooine often, and so Shmi was able to visit Jira and her family. Other than Joi and Dain leaving, the rest of the crew had stayed on. A grey-skinned Weequay called Basca Pesqi and an amber-furred Togorian called Juun K’avel had taken their places. Togorians were furry creatures with squarish faces, striped fur and long whiskers. Juun was friendly, and settled into the routine of the ship quickly. Basca had been brought aboard by the Zabrak, and seemed just as open as her recruiter. That was to say, Basca kept to herself as much as Tye. They kept one another’s company well enough, but in the two years Shmi had travelled with Tye she had learned little of the Zabrak save their name.

  
Of the other crew members, Shmi knew as much of them as they did of her. Rip’s birth family had abandoned her, and she had never discovered why. A Lasat family raised her far from Lasan. She’d known Jintoo from childhood, and they’d bought the ship together. Despite often acting as the cook, Rip was also first mate to Jintoo.

  
Val and Zana, the Twi’lek women, had been married for nearly twenty standard years. They had worked on the _Wren_ for eight of those. Val, with the green skin, was more reserved than her wife, with a shorter temper, but she was kind enough when she needed to be. She and Zana had both grown up peacefully on Ryloth, despite the harsh conditions of their planet and the slavers who often kidnapped Twi’lek. The most they knew of slavery were rumours of villages near theirs that had been raided. Shmi envied them. Still, it was Zana who had taught Shmi how to use a blaster.

  
Ryn and Kaz Rato were Pantorans, twins who had run away from home at age fifteen. They didn’t speak of what they had run from, but the crew respected their choice. By their count, they were eighteen standard years.

  
Durandal had recruited Juun. The Mirialan had warmed up to Shmi slowly, but two years of travel had cemented their connection. Even if it could not always be called friendship, Shmi and Durandal respected one another. Seeing the man with Junn, who seemed to be an old friend, cast him in a different light. With the Togorian around, Durandal seemed warmer, and he talked more often.

  
They celebrated her twenty-first birthday, but it was the second time Shmi had celebrated a birthday. Both times she had celebrated with her crew. That was how she thought of them, now. Her crew. In some ways, her family.

  
Shmi named herself Skywalker with only a little embarrassment. In her mind it sounded too proud, to dramatic, but when her crew approved she felt nothing but joy.

  
“Skywalker,” Jintoo said, musing over her drink. “A fitting name, Shmi.” She raised her glass, and said, “To Shmi Skywalker!”

  
The crew echoed her words; “Shmi Skywalker!” and raised their glasses, too. They drank to Shmi.


	16. Chapter 16

The first time Shmi Skywalker stole a ship, it was to free slaves. The _Wren_ hadn’t changed hands, but Jintoo had agreed to work for the Hutts for pay that ‘couldn’t be refused’. When Shmi found out what cargo they were shipping from Tatooine, she mutinied – with the rest of the crew, aside from Rip. Rip, being the first mate, had known Jintoo’s plans.

  
They didn’t kill Jintoo or Rip, but left them stranded on Tatooine without any supplies. Durandal said it was better than they deserved, and Shmi agreed with him, but they respected the decision of the rest of the crew. Val had seemed to find the idea of killing them distressing, and both Pantorans had objected to it fervently.

  
Shmi and Durandal made sure the Captain and her first mate were far from any settlement on Tatooine.

  
They took the _Wren_ and the slaves, after Shmi explained to them what was happening, and fled Tatooine before the Hutts could stop them. After some consideration, and talks between the crew and the ex-slaves, they decided to go to Alderaan to seek sanctuary. Durandal revealed that he had contacts on Alderaan. Shmi wasn’t surprised, really. He was quiet enough about their past, and really, none of the crew knew much about him.

  
There were roughly forty ex-slaves on board. The _Wren_ wouldn’t have been able to fit many more, and Shmi knew that other vessels were transporting slaves from the desert planet too. The _Wren_ had some defensive systems, but no serious weaponry, and so all they could do now was run.

  
Durandal found Shmi cooking for the refugees.

  
“I need to talk to you,” he said, quietly. She nodded, and gave the job over to an older Togruta woman, Kasari.

  
She followed Durandal to a place they could talk privately, and crossed her arms. “What is it?” she asked.

  
“When we get to Alderaan…” Durandal sighed. “Our associates – the ones willing to take the refugees – they’ll only talk to me.”

  
“Okay,” said Shmi.

  
“You don’t have any objections?”

  
“If it gets these people somewhere safe, I have to trust you,” she replied. “I doubt you’d double cross me now, considering.”

  
Durandal watched her closely. “Considering what?” he asked.

  
Shmi looked at him evenly. “This isn’t common knowledge, by the way,” she said. “You were a slave, too, weren’t you?” She didn’t add that she thought the same of Tye. The Zabrak’s past was their own, not hers to discuss freely with anyone.

  
Durandal closed his eyes and leaned against the wall behind him. “How did you know?”

  
“I wasn’t completely sure,” Shmi admitted. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise. I just wanted to know, to know if my trust in you was well-placed.”

  
Durandal nodded, but his expression was blank. His dark brown eyes regarded her, and she recognised that look.

  
“I was a slave, too, Durandal,” she said gently. “I thought you knew.”

  
He nodded.

  
“You’re safe,” she said, slightly irritated that she had trusted where her trust wasn’t returned.

  
“It’s just… hard to let go of that fear,” he said.

  
“I know that,” Shmi said, looking into his eyes. “More than anyone.”

  
He looked away.

  
“Now,” said Shmi. “We have work to do.”


	17. Chapter 17

On Alderaan, while Durandal met with his contacts, Shmi took it into her own hands to find someone ‘in charge.’ The city they’d landed in was completely different to anything on Coruscant. From the spaceport, Shmi could see snow-capped mountains, tall spiralling towers spreading across the city, patterned with colours from plants and paints and even glass, glinting in rainbow hues with the midday sun. Shmi headed for the centre of the city, stopping every so often to ask someone where she could find a politician. She was sent to a tall duracrete building, hidden away amongst much prettier buildings. When she knocked on the door, it took a few minutes before anyone answered.

  
“Yes?”

  
The woman who answered the door was dressed plainly, her hair tied in a bun, her face stern. She looked Shmi up and down, and Shmi stood tall, meeting her grey eyes.

  
“I need to talk to someone in charge,” said Shmi. “I would do this on Coruscant, but it’s much more difficult finding a politician who’ll listen there, and I thought it would be worth a try here. You see, Tatooine doesn’t have an official representative in the Senate, and –”

  
“Hang on a second,” said the woman. “I’ll fetch Lady Panteer, although I doubt very much that we can help you.”

  
Shmi moved to follow the woman into the building, but the door shut in her face and she was forced to wait outside.

  
Lady Panteer was dressed in much nicer clothes than the woman who had answered the door, wearing a pale blue velvet dress laced with gold, contrasting beautifully with her dark skin. Her hair was braided in loops, which were threaded with silver. To Shmi’s surprise, she smiled kindly when she greeted her, although the plain woman behind her was still scowling.

  
“Come in,” she said. “Although, my attendant informs me you hail from Tatooine, and wish to talk politics,” she said, as Shmi followed her through the building, “And this building is the Ministry of Education.”

  
“But you can point me in the right direction,” Shmi said. They entered an undecorated room, with two low seats and a table. The attendant left them, and the Lady gestured for Shmi to sit.

  
“I hope so,” she said. “You will need to tell me exactly what you expect from me, however. And I do hope, for your sake, you aren’t wasting my time.”

  
Shmi smiled, meeting Lady Panteer’s eyes. “I don’t believe I am,” she said. She paused a moment to think, then said, “This is my first time visiting Alderaan.” She watched the Lady’s face carefully. “As your attendant informed you, I came from Tatooine, although it’s not my home planet. I don’t remember the planet where I was born, as I was taken from my family as a child by slavers.”

  
To her credit, Lady Panteer’s surprise was barely noticeable. She inclined her head, slightly, to indicate that Shmi continue her story. The attendant brought them food and drink, then left the room.

  
“It came to my attention that people from planets in the Core are unaware that slavery is still practiced in the Outer Rim. Yet nothing will change if the Senate and the Republic remain ignorant. The Outer Rim is controlled by slavers and gangsters, like the Hutts who control Tatooine, and the Zygerrians who control the majority of the slave trade. Yet nothing has been done about this, and Tatooine has no official representation in the Senate.”

  
“There’s no guarantee that if the Senate did accept a representative from Tatooine that it would change the state of things in the Outer Rim,” the Lady pointed out.

  
“I know,” Shmi sighed. “But someone has to do something. I just… I’m not sure how I would get the Senate to hear me out. I was hoping that I could find someone from a respectable planet to help me petition.”

  
Lady Panteer smiled again. “Well,” she said. “I certainly can’t do that for you. As Minister for Education, this is out of my league.”

  
Shmi’s shoulders dropped, but she said nothing.

  
“However,” the Lady continued, “I can speak to the Senator for you.”

  
Shmi looked at her, barely daring to hope. The Lady didn’t look as if she was mocking Shmi. Perhaps she was genuine.

  
“That would be… thank you,” said Shmi.

  
“I never asked your name,” said the Lady. “I’m sure my attendant told you, I am Lady Mith Panteer.”

  
“Shmi,” she replied. Then, “Skywalker.”

  
“Well, Shmi Skywalker,” said the Lady, standing up. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I will speak with the Senator as soon as possible, and have my attendant contact you if I am successful in organising an appointment with him.”

  
Shmi nodded, and after giving the Lady her commlink information, she left the building.


	18. Chapter 18

Walking through the streets of the city, Shmi called Durandal on her communicator.

  
“Shmi,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

  
“Yes, Durandal,” she replied. “I wanted to check in with you. And let you know I’ve made arrangements to meet with the Senate representative of Alderaan, so if we finish our business today, we’ll still have wait here until they get back to me.”

  
For a moment, there was no reply. Then, “Is that a joke?”

  
“No,” said Shmi. “I’m going to talk to the Senate about slavery in the Outer Rim. Hopefully as the representative of Tatooine, but if not, I’m still gonna try.”

  
“I can’t believe this,” said Durandal. There was some static from his end, then he said, “Look, I have to go, I’ll comm you later. Just... go back to the ship if you’re finished in the city. We don’t need any more attention.”

  
“Sure,” said Shmi.

  
Despite Durandal’s orders, or perhaps because of them, Shmi stayed out in the Alderaani city longer than she had intended. It was nightfall by the time she made her way back to the _Wren_. The rest of the crew had unloaded the non-sentient cargo, and she felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t been there to help.

  
“Where were you?” Tye, the Zabrak, demanded. They didn’t speak much, but aside from Juun, they were the only member of the crew still in the spaceport.

  
Shmi smiled at them in greeting, then said, “I was visiting a politician.”

  
Tye scowled.

  
“I wanted to find someone who would get me in touch with the Senate on Coruscant,” Shmi explained.

  
“Why?” disgust was clear in Tye’s voice. “And why didn’t you do that on Coruscant?”

  
Shmi looked at the black-eyed Zabrak levelly. “Because,” she said, “Last time we were on Coruscant, Jintoo was still Captain of this ship, and hadn’t shown signs of wanting to be a slaver.”

  
Tye flinched at that word. “And you think you can change the Senate’s mind?”

  
Shmi smiled, and said, “I can try.”


	19. Chapter 19

Most of the refugees were still with the _Wren_ , as Durandal hadn’t been able to take the lot of them with him to meet his contact. Kasari greeted Shmi warmly, and told her that one of the older ex-slaves, Yula, had gone with Durandal, to act as a go-between negotiator.

  
Kaz and Ryn were cooking that night, and Zana had gone to find accommodation for the crew and the refugees, somewhere near the spaceport that wouldn’t ask too many questions. From their other work, the crew had enough credits to support the refugees for a short time. After unloading the ship, Basca and Val had gone to talk to Jintoo’s trading partners on Alderaan, to lie about the ship’s change of hands.

  
When Shmi sat down in her bunk, she realised she was exhausted. There was so much she had to do, and so much of it relied on other people. Putting her face in her hands, she breathed out heavily, and said to no one in particular, “This is too much.”

  
“It can seem that way, sometimes.”

  
Looking up, Shmi saw that Kasari had followed her into the quarters. She stood in the doorway, until Shmi invited her to sit.

  
“I don’t mean to intrude,” said the Togruta. Close up, Shmi could see her fangs.

  
“You’re not,” Shmi replied quietly.

  
“Only, some of the other sl – some of us wanted to know when your Mirialan friend would be back.”

  
“I don’t know,” said Shmi.

  
“He took Yula with him,” Kasari said quietly.

  
“I know,” said Shmi.

  
Kasari looked closely at Shmi, her dark eyes shining. “Yula is my wife, and I’m worried for her.”

  
“Oh,” said Shmi. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

  
“I don’t know what I would do, if anything happened to her.”

  
Shmi looked down. “How did you do it?” she asked. “How did you keep that from your masters?”

  
Kasari put a hand on Shmi’s shoulder and said, “It wasn’t easy.”

  
“I don’t know if I should contact Durandal,” Shmi said, looking again at Kasari. There was sorrow in the eyes of the old Togruta. “He seemed in a hurry the last time I spoke to him. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

  
“Of course,” said Kasari.

  
They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the _Wren_ a gentle background hum.

  
“I heard what you were saying to the Zabrak,” Kasari said. Shmi looked up at her. She tapped her montrals, the tall green-and-white striped horns on top of her head. “We Togruta have good hearing,” she said with a smile, a flash of her fangs.

  
“What did you hear?”

  
“That you want to stop the slave trade,” Kasari said. Sighing, she leaned back in Shmi’s bunk and rested against the wall. “If there’s anything that I can do to help, tell me. Yula and I… we will be at your service.”

  
Shmi’s breath hitched in her throat, and she held back tears as she said, “Thank you.”

  
Kasari smiled. “You have support here,” she said. “From myself, and the others. There are some of us who wish to leave when we can, to live peacefully on Alderaan as free peoples. Others, like myself and Yula, are prepared to do whatever it takes to help stop the slavers.”

  
“So am I,” said Shmi, and there was a steel edge to her voice that made Kasari’s eyes widen, the wrinkles and marks around her eyes rising in surprise.

  
“I think you might just have a chance,” Kasari grinned.


	20. Chapter 20

It was well into the night before Durandal returned with Yula. She was half the height of Kasari, and Shmi could see the round, soft woman she had been before her time as a slave. Her horns were banded brown-and-white, and her eyes were a deep purple, shining with joy when she embraced Kasari.

  
“So?” Shmi said, crossing her arms as she addressed Durandal. He looked at her, and raised an eyebrow. “How did it go? With your contact?” she prompted.

  
“Good,” he replied. He sounded distracted.

  
“Just good?” Shmi raised an eyebrow.

  
“Well,” said Durandal, “My contact agreed to find places for them. It will take days –”

  
“And we have better things to do?” Shmi smiled. “While we’re here, we might as well set the _Wren_ up with new trade contacts – and figure out who’s the captain now.”

  
“I thought you were,” said Durandal.

  
“And I thought you would want to be,” Shmi countered. “You know I plan on addressing the Senate, sooner rather than later. It will be easier if I don’t have another job.”

  
“Perhaps a mutiny wasn’t the best idea,” Durandal rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, we’ll figure it out. When we get the chance, we’ll talk to the crew and put it to a vote. Val and Zana might be a good choice.”

  
“I know that Ryn and Kaz wish to stay with the _Wren_.”

  
“They’re both too young to be Captain,” Durandal pointed out.

  
“No doubt they could work with Val and Zana,” said Shmi. She uncrossed her arms and patted him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sure it will sort itself out. What about you? You don’t want to be the Captain?”

  
Durandal smiled, his teeth starkly white against his dark green skin. “I thought I would change my career, too,” he said. “I’d like to work with my contact exclusively, go into the business of freeing slaves.”

  
“Admirable,” said Shmi. “I know there are others who would support your cause,” she smiled, “There are others who will come with me to Coruscant, to petition the Senate.”

  
“I can’t stand politicians,” Durandal admitted. “I lose my temper with them. They never get anything done, and they’re all hypocrites.”

  
Shmi sighed. “You’re so encouraging,” she said.

  
“You’re better than they are,” Durandal said, looking at her carefully. “You have more of a chance than I do.”


	21. Chapter 21

Lady Mith Panteer contacted Shmi almost a week after they first met. She told her to meet her at the Ministry for Education, to meet the Senate representative of Alderaan. Durandal’s contact had gotten back to them earlier than the Lady, and many of the ex-slaves had left the _Wren_ to find their new homes. However, Kasari and Yula had kept their word, and accompanied Shmi to the Ministry for Education.

  
“Colourful building,” Yula commented.

  
The Lady’s attendant was waiting at the front door for them, and showed them to the meeting room. Inside was the Lady Panteer, and two others – a man and a boy. The man had a round, lined face, with a receding hairline and bright brown eyes. The boy shared certain features, and Shmi guessed that this was the son of the Senator.

  
“Senator Organa,” Lady Panteer said, by way of introduction. “This is Shmi Skywalker.”

  
Shmi held her hand out for the man to shake, and said, “My friends are Kasari and Yula.”

  
“This is my son, Bail,” said the Senator. “My name is Ben. A pleasure to meet you all.”

  
“Please, sit,” said the Lady, “Aja will bring us refreshments.”

  
Shmi, Kasari and Yula sat across from Senator Organa and his son. Lady Panteer sat on the third chair, a mediator. The assistant brought food and drink, but no one moved to eat it.

  
“So, Lady Mith tells me you wish to address the Senate,” Senator Organa said. Shmi inclined her head. “Tell me, then, why should I help you?”

  
Shmi took a deep breath in. She had gone over this in her mind a million times. “I wish to address the Senate about the rampant slavery in the Outer Rim. I will do this myself, but I need a way in. They will not listen to me – being an ex-slave cargo hauler from a family I’ve forgotten. If I had the support of someone already in the Senate, somebody with esteem, I could… get my foot in the door, so to speak.”

  
Bail glanced at his father, obviously paying close attention to everything that was happening. Shmi wondered what the boy was doing here. It was likely he was following in his father’s footsteps.

  
“I know that Alderaan is against slavery,” Shmi continued. “But I don’t expect your planet to speak for me.”

  
Ben leaned back in his chair. “You are aware that taking an aggressive stance against slavery will not only be unpopular with the Senate, but put you, as an individual, at risk from those who control the slave trade?”

  
“I know the Republic’s official stance is anti-slavery,” Shmi countered. “And I believe that there will be people who support my cause. The risk to my life…” she looked at Ben evenly. “My life is at risk regardless. I would rather risk it for a cause I believe in, than live in fear that I could be recaptured.”

  
“Admirable,” said Senator Organa.

  
“Will you aid our cause? If you are worried about putting yourself in danger, I am willing to take full responsibility for any fallout.”

  
“That is not something you can control,” he replied. “And it is also not what I am worried about. I simply wanted to gauge your dedication. You speak like a trained politician, Madame Skywalker.”

  
“I don’t know that’s an insult or a compliment,” Shmi said. Kasari laughed. “But I suppose I should thank you, if you’re considering helping me.”

  
“I am,” said Senator Organa. “I will approach the Senate on your behalf, but you shall address them yourself, on Coruscant – with the support of Alderaan.”


	22. Chapter 22

The first attempt on Shmi Skywalker’s life happened a few days meeting with the Senate for the hundredth time. She lived partly because Senator Organa’s security was good at what they did, and because her Togruta friends had excellent hearing. Not to mention her own skills in combat, which were unrefined yet effective. She did not kill the assassin, but by the time she was finished defending herself, he was short a working arm.

  
Despite his attempt to kill her, Shmi decided to talk to him before the authorities arrived.

  
“What’s your name?” she asked. At first he wouldn’t answer, but she spoke to him of her travels and her goals, and told Kasari to keep the police in the waiting room once they arrived.

  
Eventually, the assassin told her he was called Lorth Kessler. He was a Zabrak with pale skin, colourless eyes, and a scattering of horns on his bald head. He still wouldn’t tell her who he worked for, but explained that most assassins simply took commissions, it didn’t matter who paid them. Work was work, he said. Credits were credits.

  
“I suppose I should hand you to the authorities,” Shmi said.

  
“That’s how these things usually work,” said Lorth. His hands were tied behind his back, but Shmi had made sure he was sitting comfortably on the couch in her quarters.

  
“Especially since you don’t know who wants me dead,” she said.

  
He looked away from her. “Right,” he said.

  
Shmi watched him carefully. Standing up, she said, “You could find out.”

  
“Why should I?”

  
“Because your life is now in my hands, Lorth,” Shmi said. He looked at her, his pale eyes wary. “I could have you killed.” She had no idea if that were true, but she spoke with confidence, knowing that he had to believe her. “Or, you could work for me. Find out who paid you to kill me, and you go free.”

  
“They’d kill me,” he said, barely keeping the fear from his voice.

  
“With our protection, then,” she said. She walked over to him, and put her hand on his shoulder. “We will make sure no harm comes to you.”

  
She knew she was making promises that would be difficult to keep, at the least, but this man had been hired to kill her. Which meant she’d already made an enemy. It was highly unlikely that Rip or Jintoo had survived the desert, but they were the only two people in the entire Galaxy that had a personal reason to hate her. Although, she thought, she’d technically stolen those slaves. Both the Zygerrian slavers and the Hutts had reason to want her dead, regardless of whether the Senate would listen to her.


	23. Chapter 23

Shmi took Lorth to meet Ben Organa. He had been her friend in the Senate since she had met him on Alderaan, although it had taken her a while to believe she could trust him. Nearly half a standard year had passed since he first secured a meeting with the Galactic Senate, and since then Shmi had worked tirelessly to get them to pay her any attention.

  
They had finally agreed to hear her petition, and she was working on convincing them to at least consider allowing more Outer Rim planets to join the Senate. It was exhausting, but Shmi knew if she could not change things in the Core, there was little hope of stopping the slavers who controlled the Outer Rim.

  
“An assassin?” Ben asked, wide-eyed. He was standing in the doorway to his apartments, which were a floor above Shmi’s. He looked from Shmi to Lorth, and said, “And you brought him here because…?”

  
Behind Shmi were Yula and Kasari, and behind the Togruta women were three confused Coruscant police officers. They had tried to take Lorth from Shmi’s custody, but she had politely asked them to wait until she’d conferred with the Alderaani Senator.

  
“I wanted your thoughts,” Shmi replied. Lorth’s hands were still tied behind his back, and he hadn’t said a word.

  
“This should be interesting,” Ben said with a smile. “Well, you and your assassin can come inside. Kasari and Yula are welcome, of course, but I’d prefer the police wait outside.”

  
Those invited followed Ben to his sitting-room. Young Bail was nowhere to be seen, but Shmi knew he would be nearby, listening. His father was moulding him into a politician, and the boy wanted to know everything.

  
Shmi sat once Lorth was comfortable. Then, she explained her plan. Ben listened carefully, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  
“It’s dangerous,” he said.

  
“More dangerous than having another assassin sent after me, because this one failed?” Shmi raised an eyebrow. “And his life is now in danger, I’d imagine. He hasn’t told me much, but if he knows anything they don’t want him to know…”

  
“I’m willing to cooperate,” Lorth said, his voice trembling slightly. For an assassin, Shmi thought, the man had no nerve. “As long as you can offer me sanctuary.”

  
Ben studied him carefully. “This was your first contract, wasn’t it?”

  
Lorth nodded.

  
“What does that have to do with it?” Shmi asked.

  
“It likely means you’re not a high-priority target,” Kasari said, her voice pulling the attention from Lorth. “Yet. It also means that he’s probably telling the truth when he says he doesn’t know anything.”

  
“What it means is I don’t have many connections,” Lorth grumbled. “It’s not going to be easy for me to find out who wants you dead, because none of the people who know are gonna want to talk to me after this.”

  
Shmi sat back in her chair and considered this. “What if you killed me? Do you think you’d meet whoever hired you?”

  
“That won’t be much use if you’re dead,” said Lorth. He glanced from Shmi to Ben, and then said, “Oh. You mean, if you fake your death.”

  
“Won’t that cause… complications in negotiations with the Senate?” Yula asked.

  
“Probably,” said Shmi. “But so would my _actual_ death, and we can discuss this with the Senate later.”

  
“The problem is,” Ben said, “The police already know you survived, and I’m not bribing anyone to keep their silence.”

  
There was silence in the room for a moment. Then, “I’ve heard tales of Jedi Knights who can track people with their magic,” Kasari said. Everyone turned to look at her. “It’s how they find children to take to their Temple. They serve the Republic, don’t they?” She looked at Ben, and said, “Could we ask them if they could find this person?”

  
Shmi’s thoughts went to Qui-Gon, the only Jedi she had ever met. It had been two standard years since she had last seen him. She hoped he would remember their conversation. If the Jedi could help, and Shmi had to be around them, she would at least have them know where she stood with their Force magic. Even hearing the word ‘Jedi’ put a bad taste in her mouth.

  
“It’s worth a try,” she said. “ _If_ they can do anything.”


	24. Chapter 24

Without specific clearances, it was almost impossible to meet with the Jedi in their Temple, and so Ben arranged a meeting with the Grand Master of the Jedi in the Senate building. Those words brought to mind something larger than life, a skilled warrior, probably someone whose presence would fill a whole room without any effort on their part.

  
Shmi wasn’t wrong in her assumptions about Yoda. She simply misjudged his size.

  
The small green thing wasn’t what she was expecting, but the tall, dark man behind him didn’t hold himself in the same way. Ben introduced them as Grand Master Yoda, head of the Jedi Council, and his associate, Master Mace Windu. Yoda, the small green thing with large pointy ears, appraised Shmi with his beady eyes from where he sat.

  
“This is Shmi Skywalker,” Ben addressed the Jedi, gesturing to Shmi. “And her companions are Kasari, Yula, and the assassin, Lorth Kessler.”

  
“Assassin, you say?” Yoda’s ears perked up, and he looked at the Senator. “Planning something, are you, Senator?”

  
Ben smiled good-humouredly at the apparent joke, but Shmi stayed still, trying to keep her face neutral. She was sure she was failing. Something about the two Jedi made her feel as if she were completely exposed. She had to tell herself there was no possible way either of them could read her mind.

  
“In a sense,” said Ben, sitting down beside Shmi. “This man was hired to kill Shmi. We want to find the person who hired him.”

  
“Asked him, have you?”

  
“We have,” Shmi said, crossing her arms. “He doesn’t know much.”

  
“What do you want the Jedi to do about this?” Mace’s voice was smooth, and he at least gave the impression he was taking the situation seriously.

  
“We were wondering if you could somehow… find his employer through him.” Kasari said. She and Yula were seated on a separate couch to Shmi, Ben and Lorth. The two Jedi had barely acknowledged them when they had been introduced, but Kasari was confident. Yula knew how Shmi felt about the Jedi, and had admitted that many of their legends painted them less as peacekeepers, and more as warriors. Yet they had done nothing about the Outer Rim, and Yula agreed there was something off about the Order.

  
“To track this killer, you wish? If discover who they are, you do, what then?”

  
“Then we bring them to justice before the Senate,” said Shmi. She realised she was glaring, and made a conscious effort to smooth her features.

  
“Of course,” said Yoda. Shmi found she really did not like him. “And find them we will. For this, Tholme, you will need. A good tracker, he is.” He looked at Master Windu, and Windu nodded slightly.

  
“And the matter of Madame Skywalker’s personal security?” Ben said. He didn’t look at Shmi as she turned her glare on him. He hadn’t spoken of this to her, but as she tried to find the right words to scold him with, she realised that her friends were afraid for her. Part of her could almost feel it in the air.

  
“A bodyguard we will assign,” Yoda said, after a moment’s thought. He looked at her, meeting her eyes, and she knew there was more behind that wrinkled façade than she would ever know. “Best suited to this would be Qui-Gon Jinn.”

  
Shmi’s heart nearly stopped. He can’t read your mind, she thought. There’s no way he could read your mind.

  
“Are you sure?” Master Windu asked quietly. “He’s only just passed his trials –”

  
“Tied to this, he is,” Yoda’s response was also a dismissal, that he knew what he was doing even if the other Jedi didn’t. “Clear in the Force that much is.”

  
It was all Shmi could do not to scoff at Yoda’s last comment.

  
“Much doubt I sense in you,” Yoda said, looking back to Shmi. “Worry not, Madame. In good hands your life is.”

  
“We’ll be taking Lorth back to the Temple with us,” said Master Windu. “And Qui-Gon Jinn will be sent to meet with you shortly.”


	25. Chapter 25

Shmi, Kasari and Yula went with Ben back to his quarters, as Shmi confessed she would not feel safe in her own apartment for some time. Ben offered them use of his bed, and said he would sleep on the couch in the sitting room.

  
“I’m sure that the Jedi will arrive soon, so there’s no need for that,” said Shmi.

  
Ben smiled at her and said, “If it comes to that, then, the offer will stand.”

  
Qui-Gon arrived not long after that. Shmi answered the door, and looked him up and down. He hadn’t changed much. His hair was a bit longer, his braid had gone, and his beard had filled in a little, but he was almost the same man she had met on the streets of Coruscant two years ago.

  
“Shmi,” there was a hint of surprise in his voice. “I’m here to meet with a Madame Skywalker. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  
Shmi smiled. “Well, I was expecting you.”

  
“So you work for Madame Skywalker?”

  
“How about you come inside?” she said, and moved out of the doorway to let him in. “And I’m surprised your Jedi friends didn’t tell you that I’m Madame Skywalker.”

  
Qui-Gon glanced at her, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “I remember you telling me you didn’t have a surname,” he said.

  
“I didn’t,” Shmi replied. She showed him to the sitting room. Kasari and Ben were cooking in the kitchen, and Yula was showing Bail a card game. They looked up as Shmi and Qui-Gon entered the room.

  
Bail leapt to his feet, and bowed slightly. “Master Jedi –” he began.

  
Qui-Gon held up a hand and said, “I’m not a Master, young man. Simply a Knight.”

  
Bail’s eyes widened, “K-Knight Jedi? I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know how to address you.”

  
“Qui-Gon will do.”

  
Bail sat back down, and Yula nodded at Qui-Gon. “You’re different to the other Jedi,” she said. “Although, I’ve only met the two.”

  
Qui-Gon nodded back. Shmi gestured for him to sit down, and he did, looking over the cards that Yula and Bail held.

  
“Sabacc,” he commented. “An interesting game, although unpredictable.”

  
Yula grinned, showing a flash of her fangs. “Young Bail is showing quite the aptitude for it,” she said. “Better than I would have expected from a Senator’s son.”

  
Bail ducked his head, but he was grinning.

  
“So,” said Qui-Gon, as Shmi sat down across from him and Yula. “It’s been a long time since I saw you.”

  
“Not so long,” said Shmi.

  
There was a moment of silence. Yula and Bail quietly returned to their card game, leaving Shmi and Qui-Gon to talk.

  
“When did you get rid of your braid?” Shmi asked, unsure of what else they could talk about. She wanted to ask if he remembered their last conversation, but she didn’t wish to do so in front of Yula and Bail.

  
“I took my trials, with the permission of Master Dooku,” Qui-Gon explained. “And passed. So, now I’m a Jedi Knight.”

  
“And that means you don’t wear a braid anymore?”

  
Qui-Gon nodded.

  
“Why?”

  
Qui-Gon’s eyes widened slightly, but he simply said, “Because that’s how it works. Once you pass your trials, your Master cuts your braid with their lightsaber.”

  
“And this… calling someone Master,” Shmi said, watching Qui-Gon carefully. “That doesn’t bother you?”

  
She knew that both Yula and Bail were following their conversation. They had stopped playing Sabacc, although they were still holding their cards.

  
Qui-Gon hesitated. “Why would it?”

  
Shmi saw Yula’s brow markings rise in surprise.

  
“Perhaps because it’s the same word slaves use,” Shmi answered, her whole body still. Her voice was quiet, but she knew Qui-Gon could hear her. “To address the people who own us. Them.”

  
“It’s different,” said Qui-Gon, “The Order… the Jedi are a family, Shmi. We…”

  
“Have a ranking system that requires you to refer to a superior as a Master,” Yula finished for him.

  
“It’s not the same,” Qui-Gon protested.

  
“How?” Bail was genuinely curious, and it showed in his voice.

  
Qui-Gon turned his attention to the boy. “When the Jedi find a force-sensitive child,” he said, “They offer you the choice of joining the Order. If a child joins the Order, they are brought here, to Coruscant, and begin their training as a youngling with other children.”

  
“How old a child?” Yula asked.

  
“Old enough to make that choice,” Qui-Gon said. “When a youngling reaches a certain level of skill, they are assigned to a Master, who will continue their training until the Padawan can pass their trials. Then, as I have, that Jedi will become a Knight.”

  
“I’ll concede that doesn’t sound exactly the same as slavery,” said Yula. Shmi made a noncommittal sound.

  
“In any case, I’m not here to convince you of the differences between the Jedi and… slavery,” Qui-Gon said. He sighed. “I’m here to protect you.”


	26. Chapter 26

Qui-Gon accompanied Shmi to the Senate the next day. Lorth was still with the Jedi, but Qui-Gon passed on word that the tracker, Tholme, was already following a lead. So Shmi had to present her case with no proof other than the word of Qui-Gon Jinn. Apparently the Republic respected the word of a Jedi.

  
“This is a worrying development,” said Senator Allum, a white human from some Mid Rim planet. “Do you have any idea who would want you dead?”

  
“That’s why we brought the Jedi into this business,” Shmi said. “I can’t say for sure at this point, but I have a feeling this is related to my proposition. Slavers have never taken kindly to people taking power from them.”

  
Senator Allum shared a look with Senator Teem, a three-eyed Gran from Malastare. “It is… possible that the person behind this attack is in opposition of your ideas,” Teem said. “Especially as the Senate is seriously considering bringing your help into enforcing the Republic’s anti-slavery laws.”

  
“My help?”

  
“As a Representative of one of the Outer Rim planets,” Allum explained. “There isn’t much of a Republic presence in the Outer Rim.”

  
“So what do you want me to do?”

  
“Usually a representative of a planet has a stronger voice in the Senate, but we also work closely with the planet’s governing body,” said Allum. He went into more depth about what would be expected of Shmi; she would be the voice of the planet selected for her, one that had difficulties with slavery and crime, and she would help create a governing body for that planet if there was not already one.

  
“And in that case,” Allum finished, “You will need to spend some time on the planet you are assigned, so you may get to know the local population.”

  
Shmi’s heart fluttered, and it felt as if her throat was closing up. Still, she swallowed, and breathing deeply she said, “Where are you sending me?”


	27. Chapter 27

Tatooine.

  
The hot, desert planet didn’t have a government. It was run by the Hutts, and Shmi would have to work around that – although she had no idea how. They wouldn’t bat an eyelid about killing her, and deep down she was grateful to have a protector. Even if he was a Jedi. Even if she still didn’t trust him.

  
Shmi was sent from Coruscant in the company of Qui-Gon Jinn, Kasari, Yula, and two soldiers, Captain Starwind and Commander Quillan. The first was a Tholothian woman with dark skin and a bright smile. She outranked Commander Quillan, a Kiffar with white lightning facial tattoos. Along with Qui-Gon, they were there to protect her, but Commander Quillan had family on Tatooine, and knew some of the locals. With his help, they hoped to create connections within the community, and build trust with the people, without alerting the Hutts to their plans.

  
They stopped first in Mos Espa, and Shmi found Jira in the marketplace.

  
“It’s been a long time since I last saw you,” the old woman said, after they embraced. “Who are your friends?”

  
Shmi introduced them all, and explained what had brought her back to the planet.

  
“That’s an admirable goal, Shmi,” Jira put her hand on Shmi’s shoulder. “Do you think you could help me pack this up and take it back to my house?”

  
Shmi didn’t wait for the others to speak, but immediately started to pack Jira’s belongings away, as she had when she had worked with her. Kasari and Yula chatted with Jira, while Captain Starwind followed Shmi’s lead – it took Commander Quillan a moment to realise he was expected to help, too. Qui-Gon seemed to be listening to something.

  
“Aren’t you going to help, Jedi?” Shmi asked, slinging a bag full of bits and pieces over her shoulder. “I’m sure you can carry more than any of us.”

  
“Hm?” Qui-Gon turned to her, and seemed to realise she’d been speaking to him a second later. “Ah, I’ll take those,” he took the bag from Shmi and one from Commander Quillan, carrying them with one hand. “Where are we going?”

  
Jira looked from Qui-Gon to Shmi, and raised an eyebrow. “Did you say he was a Jedi?” she asked, as she and Shmi led the way back to her house.

  
Shmi nodded. “He is,” she said.

  
“The one you told me about?”

  
Shmi glanced at Qui-Gon. He didn’t look as if he was eavesdropping, but she couldn’t know for sure. “Yes,” she said.

  
Jira pressed her lips together, and said, “He looks nicer than I imagined.” She spoke quietly, both of them hoping that Qui-Gon wasn’t listening. “Quite handsome, actually.”

  
Shmi rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t make up for his attitude,” she replied, just as quietly. “He’s only here at the request of the Senate. They didn’t believe I would be safe out here, trying to get the Hutts off Tatooine.”

  
“And they’re right,” said Jira. “If the Hutts catch wind of your plans, well, they’re merciless. They’ll see you dead or imprisoned as soon as look at you.”

  
“I know. And the Galaxy’s slave trade isn’t going to look kindly on me if I manage to even disrupt part of their business. That’s why I’ve got a Jedi and two soldiers watching my back.”

  
“And the Togrutas?”

  
“Friends.”

  
Jira smiled at that. “I’m glad to see that. It’s easier to do these sorts of things with friends.”

  
“Overthrowing governments?”

  
Jira laughed. “You can’t call the Hutts’ rule a government, really,” she said.

  
She hadn’t moved since Shmi had last visited, but now Joi, Dain and their baby lived in the house next door. Joi was outside when they arrived, and welcomed Shmi with a hug.

  
“How’s the _Wren_?” she asked.

  
Shmi shrugged, not looking at Kasari or Yula, as she said, “I haven’t seen it in years. I’m a… I’m working for the Senate now.”

  
Joi raised her eyebrows. “Politicians?” she said. “That must be exhausting.”

  
“If it helps other people, it’s worth the effort,” Shmi replied. Joi smiled at her.

  
While they’d been talking, Jira had gone inside her house. Now she returned with her neighbour, Coris, and a tray of drinks. “Mind if we visit?” she said to Joi. Joi gestured for them to enter her house, and they all followed Jira inside.

  
It was more spacious than Jira’s home, with stairs leading up to a second level and separate areas for cooking and eating. Dain was sitting with the baby on his knee, reading a story. Kasari wandered over to them, and knelt down to greet the child. Dain smiled at Joi, Jira and Shmi, before turning his attention back to his child.

  
“That’s Fenn,” Jira explained with a fond smile. “My beautiful granddaughter.”

  
Fenn grabbed for Kasari’s lekku, and Dain gently moved the child’s hands away from the Togruta.

  
“It’s fine,” Shmi heard Kasari say. “I don’t mind.”

  
“Shall we sit?” Joi offered, gesturing at the table.

  
Shmi sat down, and looked at her bodyguards, “You’re welcome to sit, too,” she said to them. “We’re safe here.”

  
“You’ve got your own bodyguards?” Joi asked, as she handed out the drinks. “Fancy.”


	28. Chapter 28

That night, despite an offer from Jira for Shmi to stay at her house, they returned to their ship to sleep. It was roomier than the _Wren_ , designed for travel rather than cargo. Shmi had her own room, although it was flanked by the shared quarters of Starwind and Quillan, and Qui-Gon’s private room. 

  
The walls were thin. Shmi slept with earplugs in, as Qui-Gon snored.

  
It also meant she could listen in on the conversations he had with the Jedi on Coruscant. He had told her he’d keep her informed of any relevant information, but she still didn’t trust his word. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hear the Jedi he communicated with – the holocomm he was using was loud enough for him, but not loud enough to be heard through the walls.

  
“… long process,” she heard him say, as she put her ear to the wall. That had been the end of his sentence, as there was a pause. Then, “I know that, Master. Do you know if Tholme has discovered anything about the assassin? If the Hutts are behind this, there’s little chance they don’t know Shmi’s on Tatooine.”

  
Another pause, this one longer. Shmi got the feeling he was in some sort of trouble.

  
“Yes?”

  
A shorter pause, then, “Yes, Master Windu. As you say.”

  
Shmi knew the conversation was over, and sat down in her bed with a sigh. Nothing. She jumped as someone knocked at her door, and stood up almost tripping over as she went to answer. Qui-Gon stood outside, looking as composed as he ever did.

  
“May I come in?”

  
Shmi tried to banish the thought that he knew she’d been eavesdropping, and welcomed him inside. They stood uncomfortably opposite to one another, and Shmi waited for him to speak.

  
“I… am sorry to tell you that we still do not know who hired Lorth Kessler,” he said hesitantly. “But Tholme is following his lead, and I’m sure he will find them soon enough.”

  
“Is that all?” said Shmi.

  
Qui-Gon shook his head. “I – well, I wanted to apologise,” he said. “Again. For my mistake.”

  
Shmi pressed her lips together, looking away from Qui-Gon.

  
“I want you to know that you have no reason to fear me. You’re the closest thing I have to a friend outside the Jedi Order.”

  
Shmi closed her eyes, and took a deep breath in. “If you think that’s going to change my mind –”

  
“No,” said Qui-Gon. “That’s not why I told you that. There’s… something about you, Shmi. You have a presence in the Force that’s unlike any other.”

  
“Which means?”

  
“I don’t know. You’re important, the Force surrounds you as strongly as any Jedi, even more so. And yet you don’t use it in ways that I understand.”

  
“You’re not making any sense, Qui-Gon.”

  
“I don’t know how to explain it,” he said. “I’m… sorry, Shmi, it doesn’t quite make sense to me. And I’ve lost track of what I was trying to say.”

  
Shmi looked him in the eyes, and saw that he was nervous. “Then tell me,” she said, although her voice was gentler than it had been.

  
Qui-Gon hesitated. “I would like for us to be friends,” he said.

  
“Then maybe someday that will happen,” Shmi made sure he knew those words were a dismissal. He left the room, only stopping to bid her goodnight.


	29. Chapter 29

Over the next few weeks, they visited many settlements, cities, towns and farms, all to speak with the people of Tatooine. Yula had no trouble talking with the locals, but it took Shmi a while to figure out a way to speak with strangers without feeling too much fear. She learned quickly that the locals of Tatooine were easier to talk to than the Senate, even the criminals who spent time in shady cantinas.

  
In the months Shmi and her companions were travelling around Tatooine, she nearly died three more times. Just before the third assassination attempt, the Jedi contacted Qui-Gon to tell him that, although there was no solid proof, Tholme had tracked the contract back to Jabba’s palace on Tatooine. When Qui-Gon told Shmi, Starwind and Quillan, Shmi said, “Then let’s pay him a visit.”

  
“That’s a bad idea, ma’am,” said Captain Starwind. “The Hutts are dangerous, and Jabba’s got no qualms about killing anyone – even a Jedi Knight.”

  
“He might find that a bit of a challenge,” said Qui-Gon. “But I agree with the Captain. You are too important to this campaign to lose.”

  
“I have two counters to that,” Shmi said, meeting Qui-Gon’s eyes. There was no mistaking the determination in Shmi’s eyes. “If anything happens to me, Kasari and Yula have agreed to continue my work.” Kasari pretended not to notice the looks Qui-Gon and Starwind gave her. Yula grinned at them both. “Secondly, as I am an official member of the Senate, if anything happens to me it will give the Republic cause to at least investigate the Hutts.”

  
Qui-Gon sighed. “If you’re going to go ahead with this anyway,” he said, “I will be at your side. I promise, I will not let anything happen to you.”

  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Shmi countered.

  
“Can we at least wait to meet with Tholme? Two Jedi are better than one.”

  
Shmi agreed that this was a good idea. Qui-Gon contacted the other Jedi, who was already on his way to Tatooine. They organised to meet on the outskirts of Mos Espa, on the borders of the Dune Sea. Shmi knew the Dune Sea as both the place where the Zygerrian slaver ship had crash landed, and where she had left Jintoo and Rip to die. Apparently, Jabba also had a palace in the middle of the desert.

  
Before leaving for Jabba’s palace, Starwind outfitted Shmi with a compact blaster. Aside from her own practice, Starwind had been showing Shmi how to use the blaster more efficiently. She was a good shot, according to the Captain, and could easily be one of the best. Shmi dismissed the thought that Starwind was just being kind. It wouldn’t do to set someone in her protection up to die from overconfidence. “And a warning,” Starwind said in an aside. “Don’t anger the Hutt.”


	30. Chapter 30

Tholme was waiting for them when they left Mos Espa. He looked younger than Qui-Gon, but only by a few years. There didn’t seem to be anything special about him. He was human, and male, and a Jedi.

  
He greeted Qui-Gon first, then bowed low to Shmi. “Nice to meet you, Madame Skywalker,” he said.

  
“Call me Shmi.”

  
“As you wish,” Tholme smiled. “I am Tholme, Jedi Knight. It’s brave of you to confront Jabba. I’ve heard some awful things about him.”

  
“I refuse to be intimidated by a criminal,” Shmi said sternly.

  
“Well, we’ll do our best to protect you,” Tholme said, looking at Qui-Gon. He looked over his shoulder at the desert, and said, “Are we walking?”

  
At that moment, Captain Starwind and Commander Quillan arrived on speeders. Attached to Starwind’s speeder was a third, for a single rider, which she unhitched and walked over to the Jedi.

  
“Ah,” said Tholme. “Good.”

  
Kasari and Yula had promised to stay behind, with a communicator in case something went wrong. Shmi rode with Captain Starwind, Qui-Gon with Commander Quillan, and Tholme rode alone. Starwind had been kind enough to provide her with goggles, to keep the sand out of her eyes. Shmi wrapped a cloth around her mouth and hopped on the speeder, sitting behind Starwind. She wrapped her arms around the Captain’s waist, and they set off.

  
The desert was boring. The scenery barely changed as they crossed the Dune Sea, although there were some skeletons of giant creatures that probably wouldn’t be good to meet if they were alive. Shmi nearly fell asleep on the back of the speeder, only to come back to herself with a jolt. When they reached Jabba’s palace, her legs had gone to sleep, and she nearly fell over when she hopped off the speeder. She dismissed the help Starwind offered, and leaned against the speeder until feeling came back into her legs. As she and Starwind waited, Quillan and the Jedi caught up, parking their speeders alongside Starwind’s.

  
“Commander, you stay out here,” Captain Starwind ordered. “If we need to run, we’ll need the speeders.”

  
Commander Quillan nodded. Shmi led the way to the great, rusted metal door of the palace and stopped.

  
“How do we get inside?” she asked.

  
Tholme raised his hand, palm facing towards the door. “There’s someone on the other side. We could try knocking.”

  
So Shmi knocked.

  
The door boomed, louder than Shmi had expected, and she took a step back. A robotic eye popped out from a hole in the door, and looked Shmi up and down. With jerky movements, it scanned the two Jedi, and Captain Starwind.

  
“Coo bu kark doth uba?” a voice asked, speaking Huttese. Shmi had learned enough of the language as a slave to understand.

  
Shmi frowned. “That’s rude. I am Shmi Skywalker. I come seeking audience with Jabba the Hutt.”

  
“Wonkee hatkocanh Jabba banag bai neu uba?”

  
“What’s it saying?” Starwind whispered to Shmi.

  
“It wants to know why Jabba would want to see me,” she replied. “Tell Jabba that Shmi Skywalker wishes to speak with him, and let him decide.”

  
The eye retreated into the door, and Starwind put a hand on Shmi’s shoulder. “Are you sure this will work?”

  
Shmi smiled at the Captain. “Nope,” she said. “But if Jabba is trying to kill me, don’t you think he’ll want to see me?”

  
“I like how she thinks,” said Tholme. He moved to her side, and Qui-Gon followed him. “So if he tries to kill you while we’re in there?”

  
Shmi turned her smile on the Jedi. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

  
A moment later, the door opened. A pale Twi’lek with blood-red eyes and a single lekku wrapped about his neck stood in the wide corridor beyond. He gestured for Shmi and the others to enter the palace. A little further down the corridor, Shmi could see two tusked, pig-like people. They were obviously carrying weapons.

  
“Mah peekasa Bib Fortuna,” he said.

  
“Shmi,” said Shmi, and shook hands with the Twi’lek.

  
“Nan tah heee.”

  
Shmi walked ahead, with a confidence she didn’t quite feel. She followed the Twi’lek, keeping her ears and eyes open. She could sense the presence of her bodyguards behind her, and was grateful that they had waited for Tholme.

  
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Captain Starwind whispered to her, and Shmi nodded her agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: used this translator for Huttese. (http://starwars.myrpg.org/coruscant_translator.php)  
> (Spoken by Bib Fortuna)  
> \- Who the fuck are you?  
> \- Why would Jabba want to see you?  
> \- My name is Bib Fortuna  
> \- Come this way.


	31. Chapter 31

Jabba himself was further inside the palace, in a wide, dusty room. Three Twi’lek slave girls danced on a grated floor in front of the crime lord, their faces devoid of any emotion. Around the room, there were pirates, slavers, scum, and bounty hunters playing games of chance, gambling, drinking, smoking and talking. There was a person sitting on a chair near Jabba’s platform dressed in full blue-and-silver Mandalorian armour. Their head turned to watch Shmi and her contingent as they entered the room. Bib Fortuna walked across the dance floor to whisper to Jabba. Jabba, a great slug-like creature, turned his slimy gaze on Shmi. The Twi’lek girls stopped dancing, and moved aside to let Shmi pass.

  
Shmi stood with Captain Starwind to her left, Qui-Gon and Tholme behind her. She looked Jabba squarely in the eye, and said in Huttese, “Greetings, Jabba the Hutt. I am Shmi Skywalker, and I thank you for granting me an audience with you.”

  
Jabba stirred in surprise when Shmi spoke. “Shmi Skywalker,” he said, responding in Huttese. “What brings you here?”

  
Tholme moved forward, and put a hand on Shmi’s shoulder. “There’s a presence here,” he said quietly. “It’s not Jabba, but whoever wants you dead… I think they’re here.”

  
Shmi nodded, and turned her attention back to Jabba. “I am seeking someone who made an attempt on my life. I believe they are here, although I would not be able to name them if you asked.” She had not seen any faces she recognised in the palace, but many of the patrons wore helmets or masks.

  
Jabba leered down at her. Then he turned to Bib Fortuna, and said something that Shmi didn’t hear. The Twi’lek nodded, and left the room. “My servant will bring them to you,” he said. “They have been waiting for you, since their assassin failed.”

  
“Then you yourself do not wish me dead?”

  
The Hutt shook his head. “You are of no consequence,” he said. “A grain of sand in the desert. Make yourselves comfortable. Cause any trouble, and no one will hesitate to kill you.”

  
Shmi bowed, low enough that it would be hard to say if she was being disrespectful. Dealing with the Hutt left a bad taste in her mouth, but she knew that he spoke true.

  
“So you speak Huttese,” said Qui-Gon, as they made their way to a table. The music had started again, and the poor Twi’lek girls were dancing for Jabba.

  
“I speak a few languages, other than Basic,” Shmi said. She sat down, and looked at her hands. “You learn them quickly if you need to.”

  
Qui-Gon nodded, and said no more. Captain Starwind sat herself next to Shmi, but the two Jedi remained standing.

  
“I might have a look around,” Tholme said, his eyes scanning the room. “I’ll be back soon.”

  
“Stay safe,” Qui-Gon said. “May the Force be with you.”

  
Tholme nodded, then melted into the crowd.

  
“It’s a small blessing, that it’s not Jabba who wanted you dead,” Starwind said. When Shmi looked at her, she clarified, “If he did, he would have killed us to get to you.”

  
Shmi put her head in her hands and sighed. “I think I know who wants me dead,” she said in a low voice. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”


	32. Chapter 32

It wasn’t long before Bib Fortuna returned, with two familiar faces. Shmi stood up as they approached the table, putting her hands on her hips. “You couldn’t be bothered to kill me in person?” she asked.

  
Jintoo crossed her arms. She looked worse for wear, her skin dry, and she was missing a finger. Rip had lost hair in patches, but otherwise looked fine. “You stole my cargo and left us to die in the desert,” Jintoo replied.

  
“And you couldn’t make your own way to Coruscant to kill me.” Shmi was actually a little offended. “You hired an assassin who couldn’t even do the job right. Do you really want me dead?”

  
Jintoo didn’t respond to that. Shmi gestured for them to sit down, and sat herself across from them.

  
“You know what I don’t understand?” Shmi said. “You knew some of your crew had been slaves. But you decided to trade in people anyway. Why?”

  
Jintoo glanced at Rip. The Lasat shrugged. “Business,” she said.

  
“We weren’t making much money with regular trade,” Jintoo said. “We were offered good pay to transport those slaves.”

  
“And you didn’t think it was a bad idea?” Shmi asked, raising an eyebrow.

  
Jintoo leaned forward. “It was my ship – it still is my ship. I want it back, and I want you to pay for taking it from me.”

  
Shmi looked at Jintoo evenly. “You’re not getting it back,” she said simply. “I don’t know where it is, and if I did, you don’t really deserve it.”

  
“The Zygerrians offered me a contract, Shmi!” Jintoo slammed her hand on the table. “If I’d worked a few years for them I could have retired on a Core Planet! Or Bal’demnic!”

  
“These don’t sound like good reasons to traffic sentients,” Shmi said, her voice steady, despite the fact her anger was slowly building. “Actually, there aren’t any good reasons to traffic people, and the fact that you think you’re still in the right makes me sick. I wish you had died in the desert.”

  
Rip growled, her hand making a fist.

  
“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” said Shmi. “I doubt Jabba’s friends are yours as well. And we seem to be better armed than you, Captain.”

  
Jintoo sighed. “What do you want from me?” she asked.

  
“Don’t try to kill me again?” Shmi sat back in her chair. “I thought that was obvious. You won’t get anything from it, not even your ship, I don’t have it. And it’s not like your heart was in this, really, or I’d be dead.”

  
“You took everything I had,” Jintoo said, despair creeping into her voice. “Everything. You and Moonrunner.”

  
“You’re not trying to kill him, are you?” Shmi asked.

  
Jintoo shook her head.

  
“We couldn’t find him,” said Rip. “You were easy to find, but he’s disappeared.”

  
Shmi raised her eyebrows. “Well,” she said. “I can’t really trust your word, that you won’t try to kill me again. I’d feel safer if you came with me back to Mos Espa.” She turned to Starwind. “Can we arrest them, or something?”

  
“I’m not going to come quietly,” Rip said, her voice low. Shmi wasn’t exactly surprised by the Lasat’s change in attitude, but it seemed so different from the cheerful, welcoming first mate that Shmi remembered.

  
Shmi stood up, and the Lasat tensed. “Oh, I’m not gonna take you on myself,” she said. “You could rip my arms out of my sockets.”

  
A few of the patrons were looking at them. Tholme was out of sight, and Shmi knew it would be reckless to antagonise the Lasat further. Still, it was tempting.

  
“It would just be easier than sending someone to arrest you later,” she said. “For the both of us. You don’t want to make an enemy of the Republic.”

  
“You’re not that important,” Jintoo sneered.

  
Shmi put her hands on the table, and leaned forward, so she was looming over Jintoo. Rip got to her feet, but Shmi stayed where she was, refusing to let the Lasat intimidate her. “Wanna bet?”

  
She jumped back as Rip grabbed for her, and Captain Starwind stood, hand on her blaster. No one drew their weapon. The room felt still, despite the music, chatter, and dancing going on around them.

  
“Don’t try it, Rip,” Shmi warned.

  
She felt the blaster bolt slam into her shoulder, felt Qui-Gon’s hands on her shoulders, keeping her upright, and she reacted by drawing her own blaster and shooting Jintoo in the chest. The Rodian slumped backwards into her chair, her blaster falling from her hand, her chest smoking slightly. Starwind put Shmi’s arm around her shoulders as Qui-Gon drew his lightsaber on the Lasat, who halted in her tracks, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. Everything was fuzzy, and Shmi could barely hear the Jedi speaking. Despite Jabba’s threat, none of the patrons had moved to intervene.

  
“Shmi?” Starwind’s voice was in her ear, and Shmi tried to focus. Starwind met her eyes, and Shmi blinked. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  
Tholme appeared, and put the shackles on Rip while Qui-Gon kept her still with the threat of his lightsaber. When that was done, he lifted Jintoo’s body over his shoulder and led the way out of Jabba’s palace, stopping to thank Jabba for his hospitality.

  
If Shmi hadn’t been so dazed, Quillan’s face when they emerged from the palace would have amused her. Like a good soldier, he asked no questions, but helped Shmi onto the speeder. Jintoo’s body was loaded onto the back of his and Qui-Gon’s speeder, and Tholme manoeuvred the Lasat onto his.

  
Shmi woke up in a med-bay. Her shoulder was throbbing, but the pain was dull. She looked around, and saw that Qui-Gon was sitting in a chair next to her bed. He was asleep. She wondered how long she had been out for.

  
She propped herself up, her head spinning a little. No one else was around, not even a med droid. “Qui-Gon,” she said, but her throat was dry and she couldn’t speak loud enough to wake him. She picked up one of the pillows on her bed and threw it at him. He woke with a start, and looked at her, eyes wide. Then he laughed, and returned the pillow to her. She settled back down on her bed, and said, “Can I have some water?”

  
He got her a drink, then said to her, “That blaster bolt was intended to kill you.”

  
“Obviously,” Shmi replied. She took a sip of her water, and said, “I know, I’m lucky that Jintoo wasn’t a good shot.”

  
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Qui-Gon sighed, and sat back down. “This is not the first time you’ve used the Force,” he said. “You moved that Rodian’s blaster just enough that the bolt didn’t kill you. I don’t even think you knew you were doing it.”

  
Shmi shrugged. “I’m not a Jedi,” she said.

  
“And the Council won’t train you to be one,” he said. “If they had found you as a child, I have no doubt you would be a Jedi now.”

  
“I wouldn’t want that,” said Shmi. “You know how I feel about the Jedi.”

  
Qui-Gon nodded. “I thought about what you said. A lot,” he said quietly. “And… I agree with you. On some points.”

  
Shmi watched him carefully. His face was already lined, although he wasn’t that much older than she was. She wondered how much time he spent worrying.

  
“I don’t mind,” he added. “I think it’s good to look at things from different perspectives. It keeps me from getting too big a head.” He smiled. “And my old Master, Dooku, he had ideas that the Jedi Council… disagreed with. Maybe it’s important to have Jedi who don’t accept everything they’re told.” He said the last part as if he was speaking to himself. Shmi didn’t respond.

  
“Tholme is returning to Coruscant with Rip and… Jintoo’s body. She will receive funeral rites. Kasari and Yula have told me that they’ve organised a committee within Mos Espa and, with your friend Jira, a system of communication between the cities and settlements. A lot of people seem willing to join your cause here. We had a few slaves come seek safe harbour with us. A few of them went off-world with Tholme when he left. Their masters haven’t come after them. I’m not sure why.”

  
“How long was I out?” Shmi asked.

  
“You were in a bacta tank for a day and a bit,” said Qui-Gon. “And you’ve been sedated for about a day.”

  
“I can’t believe all that happened while I was asleep,” Shmi said. She smiled at Qui-Gon. “This is good!” she said. “This is what we wanted!”

  
He smiled back. “You should be fine to move around, if you wanted. Kasari keeps asking after you.”

  
“Of course she does,” said Shmi. She held out her arm so that Qui-Gon could help her stand. With his aid, she left the med bay. They were on the ship, as she’d thought, and Qui-Gon took her to the dining area. Kasari was there, playing a game of Dejarik with Commander Quillan.

  
“Shmi!” said Kasari, as one of her Dejarik pieces ripped the arms off one of Quillan’s. “Good to see you up and about.”

  
Shmi smiled, and Qui-Gon helped her into the seat next to the Togruta. He left the room.

  
“Did you know there are rumours you took Jabba on?” Kasari asked. Quillan was studying the Dejarik board, thinking of his next move.

  
“Took Jabba on?” Shmi echoed. “What does that mean?”

  
“That you fought him and won,” Kasari laughed. “I know, it’s not true, because Jabba’s still alive and his goons haven’t come for you. And I also know why you were actually there. Other people are saying that you’re here to kill every slaver and slave-owner on Tatooine and you’ve already killed… oh, what was it, Quillan?”

  
“Over a hundred slavers,” Quillan replied, distractedly.

  
“Exactly,” said Kasari. “You’re becoming a legend of sorts, my girl.” She put her arm around Shmi’s shoulders and hugged her. “Did Qui-Gon tell you, we’ve been taking ex-slaves in? They’re coming to us, and so far we’ve been able to get a few off-world.”

  
Shmi nodded, “He did tell me that. What if their masters come for them?”

  
“Then we fight them, and we win, and we do what we came here to do.”

  
Shmi smiled at the Togruta, and said, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  
“You, me, and pretty much the entire population of Mos Espa, not including the slave owners,” Kasari watched as Quillan made his move in the game. “I think we can really do this, Shmi. We can liberate Tatooine.”

  
“The big thing will be kicking the Hutts out,” Shmi said darkly. “He’s got all the scum at his beck and call, and there are better assassins than Lorth out there. Bounty hunters, pirates, murderers…”

  
Kasari squeezed Shmi’s shoulder, and said, “One thing at a time, Shmi. You’ve faced down the Senate, you’ve talked to Jabba and you’ve stopped an assassination plot. We can do this.”

  
Shmi rested her head on Kasari’s shoulder.


	33. Chapter 33

That was how Shmi Skywalker found herself as the face of a revolution on the planet of Tatooine. She hadn’t realised how much death a revolution required. By the time the Jedi, Peacekeepers of the Republic, arrived, so many lives had already been lost. Slaves fleeing their masters had been gunned down mercilessly, or recaptured with brutal force. There was no law on Tatooine other than the law dealt by individuals. Captain Starwind and Commander Quillan were thrown into the training of a militia, most of whom had never held a weapon before. Kasari led crews of people in cleaning up after battles, a healer joined their side and taught a handful of locals how to save limbs, treat open wounds and set bones without the usual med bay technology. The ship was overflowing with the injured, those close to death were given access to the med bay and the droids.

  
Shmi saw men and women die in the streets, bleeding out before help could reach them. She saw charred corpses, bodies piled carelessly to rot in alleyways and out in the open. Shmi herself was injured more than once, but never seriously, as Qui-Gon was a good bodyguard.

  
Despite herself, Shmi was starting to like him.

  
Until the other Jedi arrived on Tatooine. Masters Yoda and Windu had sent a small force of Knights; Master Sifo Dyas, a man with a sharp face and sharp eyes; a human woman with black hair named Bultar Swan; a blue-skinned Twi’lek woman, Vokara Che; and a Chalactan woman with two facial piercings – one on the bridge of her nose and the other just above it – named Depa Billaba. Three Knights and a Master, not including Qui-Gon.

  
Shmi met them when they arrived at the Mos Eisley spaceport. Despite the revolution and war, Mos Eisley was pretty much the same as it had been the first time Shmi had visited. Full of the same sorts of people as in Jabba’s palace, there was a place for runaway slaves who wanted to trade work to get off-world. There was also a place for scum who captured runaway slaves and sold them back to their masters at double the price they’d originally paid. It was a risk, but those who could flee took it.

  
Qui-Gon accompanied Shmi to meet the other Jedi. Kasari was somewhere with Yula and their bodyguard, a local woman who was one of Captain Starwind’s best recruits. The Togruta women would visit slave barracks, or smaller settlements, and try to persuade them to join the fight. Many slaves with children were reluctant at first, but once Kasari had assured them there was a safe haven in Mos Espa – protected by a Jedi Knight – they were willing to risk freedom. It was harder, Shmi knew, to take those risks when you had someone to lose.

  
“Greetings, Master Sifo Dyas,” Qui-Gon bowed low when Sifo Dyas stepped off the ship. Shmi stayed upright, nodding her greetings to the Jedi. “Welcome to Tatooine.”

  
“Greetings to you, Qui-Gon,” said Sifo Dyas. “And this must be Madame Skywalker?”

  
Shmi nodded. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  
Sifo Dyas looked her up and down. She crossed her arms. Qui-Gon had gone to greet Depa and Bultar, so Shmi was alone.

  
“What?” she asked.

  
“There’s something about you,” said Sifo Dyas. “I can sense that you are of great importance in the Force.”

  
“Sure I am,” Shmi replied. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t sure how this man would react if he thought she was being insolent. The fact that he had the title of Master was enough to set her on edge, but she was free now and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.

  
“You are going to set in motions events far greater than you can imagine,” Sifo Dyas said. “I believe there’s a war coming, Madame Skywalker, one you will have a hand in.”

  
“There’s already a war on,” she said. “That’s why the Jedi sent you. To help stop it.”

  
His smile took her by surprise. “Yes,” he said. “There is. We will do all we can to help the people of this planet.”

  
By this time Qui-Gon and the other three Jedi had joined them.

  
“So what’s the plan?” Bultar asked, as Qui-Gon made to speak.

  
“Patience, young Knight,” said Sifo Dyas. “Introduce yourself first, to Madame Skywalker, and then we can discuss tactics.”

  
Qui-Gon had informed Shmi of their names before they had come to Mos Eisley, but now she had faces to put those names to. Depa had a steady presence, and was older than the others, but younger than Sifo Dyas. Vokara had a bright smile that made Shmi want to return the smile, and even if Qui-Gon hadn’t told Shmi that the Twi’lek was a healer, she could have guessed – although she couldn’t have explained why. Bultar was roughly the same age as Shmi, but reminded her more of a child than anything. It was probably Bultar’s enthusiasm that gave her the impression, but there was something electric about the younger Jedi.

  
“Our main concern is removing the Hutts from Tatooine,” Shmi explained, as they left the spaceport to return to their base in Mos Espa. “This is not going to be easy, as we wish to offer them a chance to leave peacefully. We’re not at war with the Hutts – yet – we’re defending ex-slaves who have freed themselves. In fact, I’ve put in a request to the Senate for the Republic to supply ships to transport refugees, but I haven’t heard back from them.”

  
“I heard that Chancellor Valorum voted against the request,” Depa said calmly. “On the grounds it would cost the Republic more than was reasonable.”

  
“I don’t know what I expected,” Shmi sighed. “The Republic has never cared about slaves.” She looked at Qui-Gon, and said, “That throws that plan out the window. Mos Espa’s still the safest place for them, then, until we come up with something else.” Looking to Vokara, she added, “You’re stationed there, as the healer. We’ve already got a system to transport the injured to our ship, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

  
“That’s good to know,” Vokara said quietly.

  
“We have three main barricades currently protecting our people,” Shmi continued.

  
“I don’t expect you to fight our war for us. Qui-Gon has dispelled any thoughts I might have had about the Jedi being willing warriors.”

  
She had only meant he spoke often about the Jedi being keepers of peace before fighters, but the look that Sifo Dyas gave him made her reconsider her words. “Not that you’re cowardly,” she said carefully. “Simply that Jedi try to find other ways to win wars than just violence.” This seemed to satisfy the Master Jedi, and Shmi was torn between wanting to tell him off, and fear.

  
“So,” she said. “I need to negotiate with Jabba the Hutt. I don’t have the authority to speak for the entire Republic, but with the support of a senior Jedi,” she looked at Sifo Dyas, “I may have more sway than I would alone. Also,” she added, smiling, “He’s less likely to try to kill me if you’re there.”

  
Sifo Dyas seemed to ignore the last part, and said, “I will do what it takes to help you… remove the Hutts from this planet. We have been monitoring reports from Tatooine and Zygerria, and it seems Jabba is quite an important figure in the slave trade to Tatooine. He’s unhappy with you, Madame Skywalker, to say the least.”

  
“He should be afraid of me,” Shmi said. “But that’s a start. We can go from there. I’ve already met him, once. He’s got a lot of people working for him who wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. If it wasn’t for Captain Starwind and Qui-Gon, I’d probably be dead already.” She ignored the look that Bultar gave Qui-Gon, and continued, “Even though I am aware you won’t fight for us, I will need your aid in helping… I suppose, transporting the ex-slaves. Most of them are fighting their masters now, but we’ve had trouble getting a lot of them to safety.” She closed her eyes and stopped walking. They were nearly at their transport, and they were safe, but she could hear the screaming and see the bodies of those they’d been too late to save. “Tusken Raiders are a big problem when slaves are trying to flee rural areas. Slave owners are a bigger problem. There have been some reports of an unlucky few falling into Sarlaac pits. Tatooine is not a nice place.” Opening her eyes, she continued walking, closing herself off to the Jedi. “Swan can be in charge of those operations,” she said. “You will be working with Commander Quillan, he’s been organising them and working with the locals to provide as much protection as possible. With your help, we hope that we won’t lose so many in the future.” She sighed. “There will be children. Those are the priority.”

  
“What do you mean?” Bultar Swan asked, her eyes wide.

  
Shmi looked at her curiously. “This is a war,” she said. “No matter what we do, people will die. And the people who die in wars are the ones who can’t protect themselves. It’s the same with sickness, and slavery, and adults who think that hurting their children is the best way to teach them lessons.”

  
Bultar frowned. “That’s horrible,” she said.

  
“Yes,” said Shmi. “It is. Now, Depa,” they climbed into the speeder, Qui-Gon taking the driver’s seat. “I’ve been thinking, since the Order only sent four of you, you can’t be everywhere at once. As much as I’d like that.”

  
Depa listened without speaking, watching Shmi with her calm, brown eyes.

  
“I want you protecting my friends, the way Qui-Gon is protecting me. Kasari and Yula, they’re two older Togruta women, ex-slaves, and Kasari especially is always in the thick of it. Commander Quillan’s good at what he does, but Kasari’s nearly died twice already. It’s not just for me,” she said, seeing the slight raise of Depa’s eyebrows. “They’re important, they’re freed slaves fighting on a planet they don’t need to fight for. Kasari’s good with her words, and Yula’s friendly. Good with kids, too, makes them less terrified. So if they die, this dies. People lose hope. We lose this war. We lose Tatooine, the Senate never listens to me again, the slave trade continues.”

  
“You’ve put some thought into this,” Sifo Dyas commented. Shmi looked at the back of his head – he was sitting beside Qui-Gon – and glared. Sifo Dyas laughed, and twisted in his seat to look at her. “That’s a compliment,” he said.

  
She didn’t stop glaring. “Of course I’ve thought about this,” she said warningly. “You’d think about it if you’d lived in a war zone for months.”

  
Shmi was the only one who saw Qui-Gon’s smile. It vanished before the other Jedi could take note of it.

  
There was more of that to come in the next few weeks. Whatever personality Qui-Gon had begun to show, it was stifled in the presence of the other Jedi. Bultar was constantly being pulled up by them for her ‘reckless behaviour,’ and Shmi heard Depa explaining to Bultar that she could not care too deeply for the people they were helping, because that attachment would lead to fear. Shmi wondered what was wrong with fear, but didn’t speak to Depa about it. When she got a chance, when she was visiting a smaller settlement in the Dune Sea with Qui-Gon, she stopped to ask him why the Jedi were so afraid of being afraid.

  
“What do you mean?” he asked.

  
“I heard Depa telling Bultar off for fearing for another’s life,” Shmi said. “Why is it a bad thing? Fear? It’s kept me alive more than once.”

  
Qui-Gon stroked his beard, looking at the ground rather than at Shmi as he thought. “The way Master Yoda explained it, when I was a youngling,” he said, “Is that fear is a path to the Dark Side of the Force –”

  
“What’s that then?” Shmi interrupted. Qui-Gon smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back.

  
“It’s the…” Qui-Gon frowned. “You see, the Jedi follow the doctrines of the Light Side of the Force – we help others, we strive to be selfless, calm, and kind.”

  
“At the expense of attachment?”

  
“You have been listening,” Qui-Gon patted her on the shoulder. “The Dark Side is selfish, using anger and hatred to channel the Force.”

  
“So who uses it, then?” Shmi asked. “The Jedi are the only ‘order’ I’ve heard of who uses the Force.”

  
“Sith,” said Qui-Gon. “The Jedi are practitioners of the Light Force, and the Sith are practitioners of the Dark.”

  
“How come I’ve never heard of them?”

  
“Centuries ago, before I was born, the Jedi… eliminated the Sith.”

  
“Killed them all,” Shmi corrected.

  
Qui-Gon hung his head. “I admit,” he said, “I never understood that part. If we are to be true Jedi, surely we would have found another way to stop the war. It was at the order of the Republic… but the Jedi played their part in it.”

  
Shmi hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder. He was taller than she was, and she had to reach up to touch his shoulder, but he seemed to take comfort from the gesture.

  
“You weren’t there,” she said quietly.

  
“I don’t know what I would have done if I had been,” he responded. His voice was thick with emotion, and he turned away from her so she would not see the tears that rolled down his cheeks. “Master Dooku told me, once, of rumours of Jedi who… left the Order, during that war and afterwards, who did not join the Sith, but rather,” he took a shuddering breath in.

  
“You are allowed to cry,” Shmi said. “Everyone cries. Well,” with a small smile she added, “If they have tear ducts.”

  
Qui-Gon laughed at that. Shmi wondered who had told him crying was a bad thing, and at what age he had heard that. He took a deep breath and turned to talk to her face-to-face. “These Jedi,” he said, “That left the Order, they searched for a place in between the Light and the Dark.”

  
“What does that mean? That these Jedi – or not-Jedi, really – they were allowed to be afraid? Angry?”

  
Qui-Gon gave a small shrug. “There was nothing in the archives at the Temple about them. Not even a word to suggest what I should call them. Master Dooku told me that I shouldn’t speak of it to other Jedi. ‘There are some things,’ he told me, ‘that the Order does not wish to remember. If you ask questions about these things, it may end badly for you.’”

  
Shmi’s stomach curdled, but she didn’t move away from Qui-Gon. “Did he mean that as a threat to you?” she said quietly. “Did he ever hurt you, Qui-Gon?”

  
“No!” Qui-Gon sounded genuinely surprised. “He never did, and he wouldn’t threaten me, either. He’s a good man, Shmi. I don’t know what he meant by it.”

  
“Maybe there are some Jedi in the Order who would hurt you,” Shmi said. She wanted to hug him, but wasn’t sure if the Jedi allowed hugs.

  
Qui-Gon looked her in the eyes. “They’re my family, Shmi,” he replied, his voice quiet and sad.

  
“I know,” Shmi said, and took his hand in hers. He twitched a little, but did not pull away. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  
He squeezed her hand.


	34. Chapter 34

Jabba the Hutt agreed to meet with Shmi on neutral ground once the majority of Tatooine’s slave population had revolted. Mos Espa was now considered the base of the freed slaves and their sympathisers. Many of them were calling it a revolution. The Hutts were calling it an affront to the natural order of the Galaxy. Two other cities – Mos Ila and Mos Gamos – also belonged to the rebels.

  
Neutral ground was a difficult thing to find on Tatooine when half the cities were owned by the Hutts and the other half occupied by revolutionaries. It took nearly two weeks to decide on a place. The upside of that was both sides called a ceasefire, but the downside was Shmi had to spend hours talking to Jabba’s assistant, Bib Fortuna. She was glad she knew Huttese, because Bib refused to speak Basic with her. She wasn’t sure if Bib or Jabba spoke Basic, but she knew they would both have access to translators and protocol droids.

  
The plan was to meet on the border of the Dune Sea and Mos Espa, near the Grand Arena where the Hutts usually held pod races. Shmi had heard of pod races from Jira, and decided she wanted nothing to do with something that so glorified death and danger.

  
The conditions of the meeting were first and foremost, no attempted assassinations. The second condition was that Shmi was not allowed to bring her ‘Jedi friends,’ and that included the bodyguard who was always with her. To Shmi, that meant the Hutt was afraid of the Jedi.

  
Qui-Gon thought differently. “He’s not going to follow his own rules,” Qui-Gon told her. “He’ll see you dead sooner than let you continue this war. I have a very bad feeling about this – I think he’s going to try to kill you. Master Sifo Dyas agrees with me, and he has a skill with knowing the future.”

  
They were alone together on the ship, Shmi going over the details of the meeting with Qui-Gon. She was seated in a chair, sitting normally, and he was sitting the wrong way around in his chair, leaning on the back of his chair with his arms crossed.

  
“I’m still going,” Shmi said. “You’re not stopping me. This is important, Qui-Gon.”

  
“I know,” he responded, with a sigh.

  
“And you’re coming with me anyway,” Shmi smiled when she said this. He looked shocked, before he hid the emotion, and she added, “No honour among thieves, my Jedi friend.”

  
The third condition called for an unbiased witness, and Shmi knew that would be impossible. Whoever Jabba chose would be under his thumb, and whoever Shmi chose would be someone she trusted, and therefore biased towards her.

  
“Usually a Jedi would be good for that sort of thing, but Jabba won’t accept that,” Qui-Gon said.

  
“I’d suggest a mercenary but most of them know their next pay’s likely to come from Jabba,” Shmi said with a sigh. “What if we had a witness from both sides? Or what if we forego a witness?”

  
“It’s worth asking,” said Qui-Gon.

  
The fourth condition stated that Shmi could bring three others of her choice, so long as they weren’t Jedi.

  
“I’d recommend Starwind,” Qui-Gon said.

  
Shmi nodded, “I was thinking the same.”

  
“How were you expecting to get me to come along?” he asked.

  
Shmi swung about in her chair, which swivelled when she turned in it. It was quite fun, actually, and she’d found herself spinning around in it more than once. “Well,” she said, “We’re meeting near the Grand Arena, aren’t we? So you and… probably Sifo Dyas will find a building, camp there, keep an eye on the proceedings.”

  
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound so simple.”

  
“Sometimes it is,” Shmi grinned at him, and he smiled back. “This won’t be, but I can pretend.”

  
Qui-Gon rested his chin on his arms. “So, what other hoops do the Hutts want us to jump through?”

  
As Shmi started to answer, Vokara Che walked into the room and said, “Qui-Gon, I need your assistance in the infirmary.”

  
All the warmth in Qui-Gon’s expression vanished, and he stood, suddenly a Jedi rather than Shmi’s friend. “Of course,” Nodding to Shmi, he said, “Madame Skywalker,” and left the room with the Twi’lek.

  
Shmi sighed. Once she was sure she was alone, she put her head down on the table, not caring that she was resting her forehead on a data chip. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d had a proper night’s rest, but it must have been a while, as the next thing she remembered was Kasari shaking her gently awake.

  
“Shmi, if you wanted to sleep, you know Jira’s house is always open to you,” Kasari said, sitting down next to her. “This ceasefire has been good to the rest of us, you should take a moment.”

  
“I was taking a moment,” Shmi mumbled. “Didn’t you see? Sleeping.”

  
Kasari put an arm around Shmi’s shoulders. Shmi leaned into the embrace, and said, “This is very complicated, Kas.”

  
“I know,” said Kasari. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  
Shmi closed her eyes. “I never looked for family, you know. I never thought I’d find it.”

  
Kasari stroked her hair gently. “I don’t remember my mother, Shmi,” she said quietly. “Apparently she died when I was born, but there are so many of those stories… and of course, Yula and I never thought to have children. It wouldn’t be a life we’d want for them.”

  
Shmi listened to Kasari’s heartbeat, her breathing slow and steady.

  
“You’re like a daughter to both of us,” Kasari said quietly. “We love you.”

  
Shmi smiled. “I love you both, too.”


	35. Chapter 35

Qui-Gon followed Vokara through the ship, towards the infirmary, but she stopped him outside the communications room. “I do need your help,” she said, “But Master Yoda wishes to speak to you first.”

  
He sighed, and entered the room. Yoda was already there, a little hologram on the communications hub. “Greetings, Qui-Gon,” he said.

  
Qui-Gon returned the greetings with a bow, then said, “There was something you wished to talk to me about, Master?”

  
“Yes,” said Yoda. “Sense something concerning, I do. Spoken to Master Sifo Dyas, I have. Agrees with me, does Master Sifo Dyas.”

  
“What do you sense, Master?”

  
“Conflicted, you are,” said Yoda. Qui-Gon’s heart stuttered. “Clouded this will make your judgement. Imperative, it is, that this meeting goes well. A chance to remove the Hutts, we have.”

  
“Conflicted, Master?” Qui-Gon tried to sound calm. “I assure you, I am focused on our goal – I want for Tatooine what the Republic wants.”

  
Yoda sighed. “A turmoil I sense in you,” he said. “Yours to solve, it is, but allow it to endanger others you must not.”

  
“Of course, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon bowed low, and added, “Was there anything else you wished to speak with me about?”

  
Yoda shook his head, and ended the conversation with, “May the Force be with you.”

  
“May the Force be with you, too, Master Yoda.”


	36. Chapter 36

Like most days on Tatooine, the day when Shmi met with Jabba was hot and dry, the suns bright and scorching in the sky. It was a dry, burning heat, and if there had been any plants, they would be brown, dead, and likely on fire.

  
Shmi wore a long sleeved tunic and leggings, tied at the waist by a cloth belt, and a hood to protect her face from the sun. Captain Starwind was dressed similarly, her compact blaster concealed up her sleeve. Kasari wore one of her many dresses. Shmi wasn’t sure if Togruta skin could get sunburned. Yula accompanied them in the same sort of clothing as Shmi, but she’d coloured her clothing with bright dyes, reds and oranges and yellows.

  
Qui-Gon and Sifo Dyas had stationed themselves nearby, out of sight of the meeting place but close enough to intervene if anything went wrong.

  
They had indeed foregone a witness.

  
Jabba was late to the meeting, but he did show. The bounty hunter in blue-and-silver Mandalorian armour was one of Jabba’s three, as well as Bib Fortuna, a protocol droid, and someone Shmi hadn’t seen before. She looked dangerous, of course, with paper-white skin, a near bald head with a red ponytail, a leather vest and black-rimmed eyes. She had a sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Well, Shmi thought, none of the conditions had said no weapons.

  
“Jabba,” Shmi greeted the Hutt. “Sonpa uba che nan.”

  
“Jee ye wanya nudd bai babau mee hoppada see pomekiuog,” Jabba replied.

  
Shmi put her hands on her hips. “For the benefit of everyone here, I’m speaking Basic,” she said. “My surrender is not what I am here to talk about, and you know that. We are here to put an end to this war.”

  
Jabba narrowed his eyes, and licked his lips. “Kuna kee moova mee bu shags, an bidcakeza nei."

  
“I don’t think so,” Shmi said sternly. “We have worked too hard to free ourselves, and will not submit. However,” she smiled. “I am willing to hear your terms of surrender. Know this, Jabba. Jee nah youkesa fet Hokaaen doth jeday see mee masii. Jee hatkocanh baplamka tanea koumi. An whao uba je killya, uba lee chalya bu Ciduepe mee bu banpiumeu la dayan bai paknee ata Hokaaen doi uba cay saieu.”

  
Shmi heard Starwind whisper to Kasari, “What did she say?”

  
“I don’t speak Huttese,” Kasari whispered back.

  
“I know some,” she heard Yula say, quietly. “And it sounded like she’s daring Jabba to kill her.”

  
Captain Starwind stepped forward, and put a hand on Shmi’s shoulder. Shmi shrugged her off, saying, “I know what I’m doing, Captain.”

  
A noise came from the great slug-like Hutt, a deep, booming thing that turned into laughter. “Jee chamy tah planeeto, shag,” he said. “Haku woy uba canta uba caiot paknee ata fa doi mi?”

  
“You have already lost, Jabba,” Shmi said calmly. “You just refuse to see it. There are no slave owners left on Tatooine who still have their slaves. I have the full support of the Republic, and the protection of the Jedi. The least you can do now is keep your dignity, and leave Tatooine quietly. You have three days. I expect you to leave today.”

  
The bounty hunters looked to Jabba, but he had closed his eyes. Shmi assumed he was thinking, and crossed her arms while she waited for a response.

  
“Tah doth tee bimay, Skywalker,” Jabba said, his voice low and threatening. “Jee hatkocanh neu uba banieie.”

  
“I’d like to see you try,” Shmi replied with a grin. “You may leave, now, Jabba. I hope I never see you again. That would be too soon for me.”

  
As she turned to walk away, Captain Starwind walked up next to her, and said, “Are you sure that was wise, Madame Skywalker?”

  
“As wise as I’ve ever been,” Shmi said. “Although I’m expecting more assassins from now on.

  
“Shmi,” said Starwind, “I want you to tell that Jedi of yours that he’s not to leave your side until we’re back on Coruscant. With Jabba gone – if he leaves – we’ll be able to establish a government in your stead.”

  
“I’m happy to stay on Tatooine for a while,” Kasari said. “Yula and I already have some potential candidates for a governing body for this planet. Your friend Joi included.”

  
“I have to go back to Coruscant?”

  
“The Senate requested it,” said Starwind. “Once Jabba leaves for Nal Hutta, or wherever he wants to go. You’ll be in touch with Kasari, and able to help Tatooine from the Senate.” She clapped a hand on Shmi’s shoulder, and said, “Congratulations, Senator Skywalker.”

  
Shmi sighed. “I don’t think I’m cut out for politics,” she said.

  
“You’re good at it,” Yula replied.

  
The shot rang out, and Starwind fell forward into the sand. Shmi spun on her heel, grabbing her blaster, and dropped to her knees. Jabba had left, and she couldn’t see anyone. Kasari ducked to check on Starwind, then looked at Shmi. “She’s still breathing,” she said quietly. “Where are your Jedi?”

  
Shmi pressed a button on the comm on her arm. “We need back up. Qui-Gon, Captain Starwind’s been shot.”

  
As she spoke, another round of blaster fire sped through the air, hitting Yula in the chest. The Togruta woman dropped to the ground, and Kasari screamed.

  
“Qui-Gon, where the fuck are you?” Shmi shouted, scanning the horizon for the assailant. She had some idea of what she was looking for – white skin, red hair – but couldn’t see anything. The sniper was well concealed.

  
“We’re on our way,” Qui-Gon replied. “What’s wrong?”

  
“We’re under attack and there’s no cover!” Shmi replied, close to screaming. “I can’t see who’s shooting at us! Yula and Starwind are down!”

  
Instinctively, she dodged to one side as blaster fire nearly struck her. It hit the sand, steaming, and Shmi said to Kasari, “Get out of here! Stay low, take Yula, I’ll follow with Starwind!”

  
Kasari was in tears, but she did as Shmi ordered, pulling Yula along as she tried to walk low to the ground. Shmi prayed to whatever was out there that the sniper wouldn’t take aim at the Togruta.

  
Qui-Gon and Sifo Dyas appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and Shmi stood, turning on them with murder in her eyes. “Where have you been?” she screamed. “Help me with Starwind!”

  
“Where’s the assassin?” Sifo Dyas asked calmly.

  
Shmi barely stopped herself from slapping him. Instead she pointed in the direction the blaster fire had come from.

  
Qui-Gon drew his ‘saber, and Shmi took Starwind over her shoulder, dragging the Captain behind Kasari and Yula. Qui-Gon followed them, his lightsaber at the ready, as Sifo Dyas ran off to find their assailant.

  
“If they’re dead…” Shmi’s voice was shaking. She couldn’t imagine losing Yula, couldn’t imagine Kasari without her.

  
“I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon said quietly. “We… were attacked ourselves, but it was a distraction. The bounty hunter stayed long enough that we were unable to reach you before you were attacked.”

  
Shmi clenched her jaw, trying to stop herself from shaking with anger. She was crying, but she didn’t want to take her anger out on Qui-Gon.

  
“I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon said quietly.

  
“Just let’s get them back to your healer,” Shmi responded, hearing the anger in her voice. “And then I can decide whether or not I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translator: http://starwars.myrpg.org/coruscant_translator.php  
> \- (Shmi) Thank you for coming.  
> \- (Jabba) I look forward to hearing your terms of surrender.  
> \- (Jabba) You will return the slaves, and submit to me.  
> \- (Shmi) I will not stop until Tatooine is free of your rule. I will accept nothing less. And if you kill me, you give the Republic the excuse they need to take Tatooine from you by force.  
> \- (Jabba) I own this planet, slave. What makes you think you can take it from me?  
> \- (Jabba) This isn’t over, Skywalker. I will see you dead.


	37. Chapter 37

Words spoken in anger can’t be taken back. Shmi knew this, but she still tried to find Qui-Gon once Yula was in a bacta tank and Starwind in a healing trance. Vokara hadn’t minced words with her, saying there was still a chance both of them could die.

  
Qui-Gon was in his quarters, standing still with his hands spread before him, palms facing his chest. It looked a little as if he was holding something invisible. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply.

  
Shmi stood in the doorway, unsure of whether or not to knock.

  
“Come in,” he said, without opening his eyes. “I was trying to meditate, but I can’t seem to find my centre.”

  
Shmi found that her hands were trembling a little. She sat down on his bunk, and put her hands in her lap. “I wanted to apologise,” she said. Qui-Gon opened his eyes, and put his hands behind his back. “I was terrified. I don’t hate you.”

  
“I know,” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft. “I was afraid, myself. For you.”

  
Shmi frowned at him. “But I thought you said Jedi aren’t supposed to feel fear.”

  
“That may be,” said Qui-Gon. “But I felt it today, and if I don’t think it would help to deny that feeling.”

  
“You were afraid for me,” Shmi said. “Why?”

  
The corner of Qui-Gon’s mouth twitched into a brief smile. “You nearly died,” he said.

  
“I suppose I should appreciate that concern for me,” Shmi returned the smile, and found her nervousness had vanished. “I’m glad I came to talk to you.”

  
Qui-Gon sat down next to Shmi, and said, “I’m glad, too,” he sighed, and hung his head. “When we return to Coruscant, I doubt that I will be able to see you as often. Master Yoda will expect me to keep to the Temple. The Jedi serve the Republic, but we are separate from the Senate.”

  
“I doubt I will be safe on Coruscant,” Shmi ventured. “Jabba does want me dead. Bounty hunters and assassins are easy to find, especially in the Outer Rim.”

  
Qui-Gon pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Master Yoda knows I have grown attached to… you,” he said hesitantly.

  
Shmi raised an eyebrow. “Attached?”

  
“Yes,” he said. “I care about you. I’m not supposed to, as a Jedi.”

  
“You’re only human,” Shmi replied. She put her hand on his. “And we have spent a lot of time together. It’s only natural we’ve come to like one another, which I prefer to our other option of hating each other.”

  
“I suppose,” Qui-Gon still sounded reluctant, but he didn’t move away from Shmi. “But I still know that this isn’t how Jedi are supposed to feel.”

  
“I don’t know how Jedi are supposed to feel,” Shmi said, looking at him closely. “But I know that you can’t not feel things. That’s not how humans work. I know you have emotions, Qui-Gon, I’ve seen them. They’re not a bad thing.”

  
“Fear and attachment lead to the Dark Side,” Qui-Gon replied. “A Jedi can’t afford to feel those things.”

  
Shmi leaned against Qui-Gon, and said, “You can’t stop yourself from feeling things, Qui-Gon. I think part of you knows that.”

  
He rested his head on hers and sighed.

  
They stayed like that for a while, taking comfort from the contact that they so often denied themselves. Qui-Gon put his arm around Shmi, and she curled up in his embrace. He brushed his fingers against her jaw, and she shivered.

  
Shmi looked up into Qui-Gon’s face, and he kissed her gently on the lips. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t kiss him back, either. When he pulled away, he said nothing, but looked at her curiously.

  
So she kissed him back.

  
They lay together that night, taking comfort in the intimacy of touch, taking comfort in the mutual respect that had formed between them. It was cathartic, a release of tension, and when they had finished, lying next to one another, they both acknowledged that it wasn’t a binding act, that would tie them to each other, but something they could do as friends.

  
They fell asleep together, and when Shmi woke, she felt better rested than she had in a long time. Qui-Gon was still asleep when she woke, and she shook him gently awake.

  
“Hm?” He looked at her with a smile, and kissed her on the cheek. “Morning?”

  
“It is, I think,” Shmi said. She sat up, pulling on her tunic. “That was nice,” she said. “I slept well.”

  
“I did too,” said Qui-Gon. “I suppose we should go prepare for the day.”

  
Shmi nodded. She stood, and stretched, then finished dressing. Qui-Gon watched from the bed, and she said, “Are you planning on spending all day in bed?”

  
He smiled. “Of course not,” he said. “But I thought I’d give you some time to use the ‘fresher before I do.”

  
“Such a gentleman,” Shmi smiled at him, and returned to her quarters to take a shower. After that, she changed her clothes, and went to visit Kasari and Yula in the infirmary. She stopped off at the ship’s kitchens before she went to the infirmary, and grabbed some food for herself and her friends.

  
Vokara Che was nowhere to be found, so Shmi asked a med droid how the Togruta woman and the Captain were doing.

  
“They’re stable,” the droid told her. “And it seems as though both will live. Your Togruta friend may need a respirator to help her breathe, for the foreseeable future, but she’s alive.”

  
Shmi thanked the droid, and found Kasari asleep in the bed next to Yula’s. Yula was hooked up to a machine, monitoring her vitals and helping her breathe steadily. Shmi woke Kasari up as gently as she could, and handed her a bread roll. Kasari smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  
“I’ve been told she’ll be okay,” Shmi said quietly, sitting down beside Kasari. She took the woman’s hand in her own, and squeezed it gently. “She’s going to live.”

  
“This is my fault,” Kasari’s voice was scratchy, and Shmi knew she had been crying. She felt a small pang of guilt that while she had found comfort in Qui-Gon’s arms, Kasari had spent a probably sleepless night by her lover’s side, unsure if Yula would die in the night. Shmi put her arms around Kasari, and Kasari pressed her face into Shmi’s shoulder, clinging to Shmi.

  
“It’s not your fault,” said Shmi. She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me, but the real blame lies with Jabba.”

  
“I’m going to kill the assassin who tried to kill us,” Kasari said, her voice thick. She was crying, and that in turn caused Shmi to cry. “I am going to tear them limb from fucking limb, Shmi, for hurting Yula and trying to hurt you.”

  
“I know,” said Shmi. “I want them dead, too.”


	38. Chapter 38

Shmi came to see Jabba leave Tatooine, with Qui-Gon accompanying her and Kasari. She wanted to make sure he was leaving, she didn’t quite believe he would. She wasn’t quite sure that what was happening was real. With her own eyes, Shmi saw Jabba board his ship, with a contingent of the pirates and bounty hunters and servants who were tied to him – but not the bounty hunters who had accompanied him to the meeting. She saw the ship take off from the spaceport, watched it as it disappeared into the sky. Others had come to see him leave, too, many of them free slaves who had escaped Jabba’s palace. Many of them had been trained by Captain Starwind and Commander Quillan, and weren’t afraid to pelt Jabba with rocks, despite the dangerous-looking scum flanking him.

  
As the ship left, the crowd started cheering. That day, almost all of Tatooine celebrated. The next day, almost all of Tatooine started to clean up the aftermath of the war. With the help of Kasari, Jira, Joi, Dain, and a handful of locals, they set up groups of people to begin rebuilding the cities, towns and settlements of Tatooine. It was going to be a long, difficult job, and Shmi was reluctant to leave.

  
She had little choice, however, as the Republic sent a ship to take her and Qui-Gon back to Coruscant a few days after Jabba had left. They had sent a party of Republic soldiers to aid Commander Quillan and the civilians, and Shmi wondered quietly why the Senate hadn’t sent extra soldiers sooner. She thought she knew.

  
The return to Coruscant was uneventful, and as soon as they landed on the planet Shmi was taken away to the Senate building, and Qui-Gon made to return to the Temple. They barely got to say goodbye to one another before they were parted.

  
Shmi didn’t see Qui-Gon Jinn again for several years.


	39. Chapter 39

Politics was boring. Whenever Shmi was had the opportunity to leave Coruscant and visit Tatooine, or other planets, she jumped to take it. When Ben offered to take her to Alderaan, to discuss the bill to outlaw slavery in the Outer Rim, she agreed readily. Kasari and Yula were still on Tatooine, and so she travelled alone, aside from Captain Starwind, who had healed well from the blaster bolt. She was Shmi’s sole bodyguard now, as the main threat of the assassin had been dealt with, and the Jedi were no longer involved. In the year or so Shmi had been in the Senate, no more attempts had been made on her life.

  
Alderaan was so much greener than Tatooine, and it somehow always took Shmi by surprise. She knew the white on the mountains of Alderaan was snow, but couldn’t imagine what it would feel like. Bail, who was nearly a man now, offered to take Shmi to see the snow close-up.

  
“If you have time to spare, that is,” he added. He was following in his father’s footsteps closely, already a politician in his own right. He was betrothed to a Breha Antilles, daughter of one of the greater houses of Alderaan, who had been feuding with the Organas for a long time. The marriage had been suggested by a Jedi, Jorus C’baoth, and from what Shmi could tell, Bail was happy with the arrangement. Other than telling Shmi about the Royal Palace of Alderaa, he hadn’t stopped talking about his bride-to-be the entire trip to Alderaan.

  
Ben was looking forward to coming home to his wife. Mazicia Organa, the Queen of Alderaan, ran things on the planet while Ben represented Alderaan on Coruscant.

  
Shmi never missed Tatooine, but she missed her family. Talking to them over a holocomm wasn’t the same as being able to talk with them in person. She and Captain Starwind were close friends, but the Togruta were like her parents. She tried not to think about Qui-Gon, who she had not heard from since the business on Tatooine. She hadn’t been able to talk to him, either, even through Dex at the diner. From what she heard, Qui-Gon was barely on Coruscant, being sent across the Galaxy on Jedi business.

  
Senate business was Senate business no matter what planet it was on, but it was nice to have a change of scenery. Shmi explored the grounds of the palace in her spare time, talking to the staff and looking for ways to explore the city below. Mazicia was a friendly woman, welcoming Shmi into her household with the grace Shmi had expected from a Queen.

  
To Shmi’s surprise, Durandal Moonrunner was at the Palace, on behalf of the refugee ex-slaves that he had continued to bring to his contact on Alderaan. He was accompanied by another man, a human – shorter than Durandal, with dark skin and long black hair twisted in locks and pulled back in a tail. He was handsome, and Durandal introduced him as Elias Antilles, of house Antilles, and in an aside to Shmi, he admitted they were dating.

  
“It’s good to see you again, after so long,” Shmi told him. They were in the gardens together, on a break from the negotiations. “How’s the Wren?”

  
“I sold it to Tye,” Durandal admitted, “For a reasonable price, and Elias found me a better freighter to smuggle people with.” He smiled. “You know, for a man born into such a good position, Elias really cares about people like you and me.”

  
“Senator Organa is firmly in support of our stance, too,” Shmi said, and then laughed. “I never thought I’d be here, talking politics, and actually changing things!”

  
Durandal laughed too, and said, “It’s odd, isn’t it? I heard you drove the Hutts off Tatooine.”

  
Shmi smiled a wry smile. “For the most part,” she said. “A lot of criminals are still there, and I know Jabba’s controlling them, but it’s an underground deal now, like most other planets.” She shook her head. “The Zygerrians refuse to negotiate, the Hutts are still trading in people, the Republic refuses to supply more defence than they already have…” she sighed.

  
Durandal put a hand on her shoulder, and said, “In the last few years you’ve achieved more than the Republic has in… well, a long time.”

  
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my friends,” Shmi said. She stopped to look at him, and said, “You’ve been doing a lot, too, from the sounds of it. I’ve heard a lot of bounty hunters talking about a mysterious Mirialan who keeps slipping through their fingers.”

  
He grinned, and took his hand off her shoulder, ducking his head at the compliment. “When have you been talking to bounty hunters?”

  
“I have my sources,” Shmi said. “When you’re responsible for a planet, there are plenty of people who want to be your eyes and ears.”

  
Durandal’s eyes widened in fake surprise. “You’re saying you have a spy network?”

  
Shmi laughed. “Of course not,” she said. “I’d never say that.”

  
It wasn’t long before they were called back into the assembly.


	40. Chapter 40

There were three attempted assassinations at the talks on Alderaan alone; one for Shmi, one for Durandal, and one for Ben Organa. The last caused an uproar on Alderaan – Ben was a beloved member of the Royal Family, married to their Queen, and if someone was so bold as to try and murder Senator Organa, something had to be done about it.

  
It cemented in Shmi’s mind that the bill she and the others were trying to pass might actually change things. When she called Kasari that night, Kasari swore loudly, stepping out of view on the holocomm before returning to the conversation. “I still haven’t been able to convince anyone to go after those two who attacked us,” she said. “They’re apparently the best of the best, and all I’ve been able to get is their names – Aurra Sing and Jango Fett.”

  
“Well, whoever tried to kill us might still be on Alderaan. They’re bringing that Jedi in, Tholme, the tracker. Do you remember him?”

  
“When your ex-captain slave trader was trying to kill you?” Kasari smiled, showing her fangs. “Oh, I remember. I hope he finds these assassins, quickly. I might have to make a trip to Alderaan to see them for myself.”

  
The conversation from there went to other topics, how things had been progressing on Tatooine (decently), how Yula had been coping with her respirator (surprisingly well), how Dain and Joi’s child Fenn was growing (five years old and insisting that he was a boy, not a girl, which everyone seemed to be taking in stride), how Shmi was doing with politics (Kasari was glad to hear Durandal was doing well), and other things that, to anyone but the people involved, would have seemed trivial. Little, everyday things that reminded Shmi she had people who loved her, and cared about her. Something that she forgot, sometimes, caught up in politics.

  
Recently, too, she had been having vivid nightmares. There were days when she didn’t, but more often than not she did. For years she thought she’d been coping with them, but in the last few weeks, they had somehow gotten worse. Many of her nightmares were linked to memories of when she had been a slave. Sometimes she dreamt of the day she had been freed – snapping the Zygerrian pilot’s neck, making sure that the other slavers aboard the ship were definitely dead, mourning the loss of her fellow slaves. There wasn’t much she could do about the nightmares, but she found they lessened after talking with Kasari, or Yula, or any of her close friends. When she went to bed that night, she only woke once from her nightmares, and after a few hours of restless pacing and fear, she was able to get back to sleep.

  
The attempted assassinations didn’t help her sleep, though, and she found when she woke she was more tense than she had been before she’d gone to sleep. The first thing she did was find Starwind, who was sharing her quarters, and ask her what they could do to increase security. They were alone in Shmi’s quarters, and Shmi sat down on the couch, covering her face with her hands.

  
“I don’t want to die, Calla,” Shmi said. In a professional setting, Starwind referred to Shmi as ‘Madame Skywalker,’ and Shmi referred to Starwind as ‘Captain Starwind.’ Here they called one another by their first names. Shmi wasn’t sure what she felt for the Captain, but she knew she was grateful to have her around.

  
“You won’t,” said Starwind. “Not if I can help it. The palace’s security has been ramped up to protect Senator Organa, and you fall under that protection.” She sat down next to Shmi, and put her arm around her shoulders. “Look, Shmi,” she said. “You knew this would be dangerous.”

  
Shmi scoffed, “Yes, dangerous, not _deadly_. I quite like being alive, I like being able to change things and help people, I don’t want to die for what I believe in, Calla, I want to live for it.”

  
Captain Starwind was silent, but she kept her arm around Shmi.

  
“It’s never simple, is it?” Shmi asked, after a few minutes had passed.

  
Starwind smiled, “No,” she said. “It’s not.”


	41. Chapter 41

The local law enforcement of Alderaan didn’t manage to turn up anything about the assassins who had targeted them, but it wasn’t long before the Jedi Master Tholme arrived. He was a Master, now, Shmi was informed, and had taken on a young apprentice – a Kiffar child who was probably no older than ten, named Quinlan Vos. He had horizontal yellow bands tattooed onto his cheeks, and tightly curled black hair cut short in the Jedi fashion, with a single braid hanging down his cheek. Shmi recognised it as a Padawan braid. Quinlan was adorable, to say the least, and had practically everyone wrapped around his little finger in the first few days he was on Alderaan. Tholme was exactly how Shmi had remembered, but older.

  
They introduced themselves before the Senate members who were in the palace, as well as Durandal, Elias, and young Bail Organa. Shmi didn’t ask aloud, but quietly wondered who brought a ten-year old into any situation involving assassins.

  
“We are here to keep you safe, and bring these assassins to justice,” Tholme closed with that, and then bowed his farewell to Ben and Bail. Quinlan hurried after Tholme, looking back at them over his shoulder with a smile.

  
“They were very…” Durandal started, but with a look at Elias, he stopped. He shrugged.

  
Shmi looked at him, “Jedi-like,” she said. “Not really another way to describe them, is there?”

  
“You sort of expect them to be more, don’t you?” Elias commented. “Like, you can feel they’re powerful, but that Kiffar was a child! And… ‘Master’ Tholme didn’t seem to be much of anything, if we’re talking personality.”

  
“They’re Jedi,” said Ben Organa. “We’re lucky to have them helping us.”

  
“But… a child?” Elias asked, looking at Ben. “My Lord, it doesn’t seem safe –”

  
“He’s a Jedi, though,” Bail said earnestly. “Even if he is a child. Surely he can keep himself safe?”

  
Shmi didn’t say anything. She knew what she thought, and she was glad to know that some people agreed with her. She also knew there was nothing to be done, as she wasn’t a Jedi, they would hardly listen to her ideas about their Order. Qui-Gon had been the only Jedi she had met who she had been able to actually talk to.

  
The talks were actually progressing, and Chancellor Valorum had accepted that the bill – which would officially outlaw slavery in the Outer Rim – would be considered by the Senate. Of course, the talks bad been for more than just that, as Ben Organa was determined to make Alderaan a refuge for freed slaves, and convince other planets to join his cause. Tatooine was behind them, of course, although Shmi was still adjusting to the idea she spoke for an entire people. Nina Bonteri, Senator for Onderon, had expressed interest in becoming involved, but she was still undecided. Ben and Shmi both had been reaching out to Senators who they believed would be friendly to the idea of providing support, or homes, to the freed slaves. Ben assured Shmi that once the motion was seen as favourable, and if they could convince the Republic it would be financially beneficial, more Senators – and more planets – would come to their side.

  
It was a confirmation of something Shmi had already known. Money was the driving force behind the Galaxy, not people. Shmi had been approached with bribes, offers for her to step down from her stance in exchange for unimaginable amounts of credits. The people who offered her these bribes didn’t seem to understand that they could never buy her. Or the Organas, for that matter.

  
“So we will return to Coruscant within the week, to bring our proposition before Senate,” Ben spoke to Shmi and Durandal, in his private quarters. Bail had been given leave, allowed to spend time with his betrothed while they were still on Alderaan. “I have the half-promises of several Senators from Core and Mid Rim planets that they are willing to support us. With luck, we will convince enough of the Senate to actually make a difference.”

  
“I’ve word from Senator Chuchi of Chandrila that she and her people are willing to supply aid workers – healers, supply ships and the like – if the motion is favoured by the Senate.” Shmi sighed.

  
“Senator Teem has offered troops to aid Durandal’s efforts in freeing slaves, once it becomes ‘legal’ to go after slavers directly,” Ben replied. “Of course, that won’t happen without our bill being passed.”

  
“It’s nice to hear that some people are willing to help,” Durandal said. He looked as tired as the rest of them. “Even if they’re not willing to cut through red tape to do so.”

  
“I think people Senators that they’re representing actual people sometimes,” Shmi said quietly. “I know I do. The number of people who live on Coruscant alone – how can one person decide what is best for them all?”

  
Ben smiled gently. “That’s why they get a vote, Shmi, that’s how democracy works. And then we speak for them in the Senate, and their vote counts towards our vote there.”

  
“Sometimes I wish I could just give everyone a slap on the wrist and tell them to stop being stupid and start helping one another,” Shmi sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “But… then I would have the same power the slavers have, and I could swear up and down that I wouldn’t abuse it, but even if I didn’t, someone would have to take my place…”

  
“And there’s every chance that person would be a tyrant,” Durandal finished.


	42. Chapter 42

Halfway across the galaxy, a man who called himself Sidious visited a planet called Dathomir. He was friendly with the locals, the Nightsisters, and their leader, Mother Talzin. He was a man of great power already, apprentice to the Sith Lord Plagueis – although, to the knowledge of the Jedi, there were no Sith left in the known Galaxy.

  
For several years, Sidious had promised to teach Mother Talzin the power of the Dark Side of the Force, as his Master had taught him. But Mother Talzin had a child who showed far more potential in the Force than herself, and Sidious had come that day to take the child as his apprentice.

  
Young Maul was a red-skinned Zabrak, the blood son of Mother Talzin, and he had already received the tattoos that marked him as a Nightbrother. As the boy was young, Sidious knew he could not force him to kill his family, but he knew other ways of securing the child’s loyalty. Sidious himself had slaughtered his blood family at the behest of his Master.

  
As with most things in his life, Sidious had put thought into taking Maul from Talzin. It would not do for his Master to know that he had taken an apprentice. Sidious knew of the Rule of Two, and knew that his Master would kill Maul without a second thought. It was also not do for those in his other life – those who knew him as Sheev – to see him with a child who was obviously not his own. There would be questions asked, questions he would not have answers to. His Master looked for the key to eternal life, but Sidious wanted more than that. He wanted the Galaxy.


	43. Chapter 43

On return to Coruscant, Shmi, Ben and Bail were immediately invited to speak with several senators at varying locations throughout the Senate building. Shmi made sure to make a note of all the meetings on her datapad, and then made an immediate beeline for her quarters, and called Kasari.

  
“I don’t envy you those meetings,” Kasari said. She was calling from her couch, curled up with her arms around Yula. Yula’s respirator was a small thing, barely noticeable, but it still reminded Shmi how mortal her mothers were. “But you’re doing good work.”

  
“Have those Jedi found your would-be killers yet?” Yula asked. She smiled, kissing Kasari on the cheek. “Brings back almost fond memories, doesn’t it?”

  
Kasari rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Almost fond,” she agreed.

  
“They haven’t found anything, no, not that they’ve told me,” Shmi sighed. She sat down, adjusting the holocomm so they could still see her. “They’re still on Alderaan, but we’ve got extra Jedi security.”

  
“Your friend Qui-Gon?” Yula asked, with a grin.

  
Shmi shook her head, and smiled. “Haven’t heard from him in a while,” she said quietly. “They don’t let regular people into the Temple, you know, and no one important will talk to me.”

  
“Shame,” said Kasari. “He’s good to have around.”

  
“Kasari? Yula?” Shmi looked at the holocomm, tears in her eyes.

  
“What is it, darling?” almost instinctively, Kasari reached out for Shmi, but the hologram didn’t allow them to touch her.

  
Shmi blinked, her throat closing up. “I really miss you,” she said. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she couldn’t help but sob, burying her face in her hands. She could hear Kasari and Yula both trying to soothe her, but it wasn’t the same as having them there, being able to touch them. Even if the assassin situation wasn’t sorted out quickly, Shmi decided she needed to return to Tatooine. Surely, she thought, the Senate would allow her to visit the planet she spoke for.


	44. Chapter 44

Aurra Sing was one of the best bounty hunters in the Galaxy. She’d spent years building that reputation, years killing and hunting for different clients, years perfecting her weapons, her technique. It wasn’t that she had worked exclusively for Jabba, no, the Hutt was simply a good type to be around in her line of work. He also had money, lots of money, and the other Hutts were more than willing to hire her.

  
She hadn’t expected the contract on the Senators of Tatooine and Alderaan to be so difficult. Years ago, when the Skywalker woman had driven Jabba off-planet, she had failed to kill Shmi or her companions. Aurra had thought Captain Starwind dead, but apparently the Tholothian had been wearing some sort of armour that Aurra hadn’t noticed. And her aim had been off for the old Togruta, she knew that, she’d tried to correct it for Shmi – but the kriffing woman had dodged the blaster bolt. Jango Fett had failed to kill either of the Jedi escorts, and they had come to the rescue, and Aurra had fled.

  
Jabba had been furious that Aurra had failed to kill Skywalker. She and Jango both had been disgraced, and she’d had to work for the past few years to convince Jabba she was still the best.

  
Aurra had followed Shmi from Coruscant to Alderaan and back to Coruscant, furious with herself for not succeeding her first attempt to kill Shmi on Alderaan. It hadn’t exactly been her fault, there had been a human assassin who was working for someone else, hired to kill Senator Ben Organa and his Mirialan friend. They had stumbled across her set up and ruined her attempt at killing Shmi, and she knew that at some point the psychometric Jedi and his apprentice would find the body of the failed assassin. Aurra was too practiced to hope that they would stop looking for an assassin after they found the corpse. In fact, there was a chance they would find her because of the corpse. Aurra knew well that a psychometrically gifted Jedi could sense the history of an object by touching it, and that they made the best trackers.

  
It would take some work to make sure the Jedi didn’t find her. And she was still hunting Shmi.

  
The building where Shmi Skywalker lived was protected by several Jedi, so Aurra decided to set up camp in a nearby building where she could keep an eye on the security. She wasn’t going to rush in head first and fail a third time. She chose a populated building, one with a good view of the Senate housing, and prepared herself for a long wait.


	45. Chapter 45

“The body is that of Ishale Eris,” Tholme reported over the holocomm. Ben had summoned Shmi to his quarters once the Jedi Master had contacted him, saying they had news about the assassin. Captain Starwind had accompanied Shmi, and Ben Organa had made them all hot chocolates. They were sitting around the holocomm while Tholme spoke. “He was a bounty hunter, and we think we know who hired him.”

  
“That’s good news, then,” said Ben.

  
“Another thing,” said Tholme. “We believe he was working with a second assassin. We’re doing our best to try and find out anything about them, but it’s proving difficult. They seem to be a more seasoned bounty hunter than this Ishale, or, at least, they’ve encountered Jedi before. We’ll find them,” Tholme continued. “No doubt about that, but it might take a little longer than we planned. In the meantime we’re sending Ishale back to Coruscant to see if we can’t find out who hired the assassins.”

  
“Well, thank you for keeping us updated,” said Ben. “Is there anything else?”

  
“That is everything, Senator Organa,” Tholme signed off, and there were a few minutes of silence. Shmi nursed her hot chocolate.  
  
“Is Durandal safe?” she asked, looking at Ben.  
  
He nodded. “He’s disappeared with Elias again. They received a tip about some freighters moving people between Mid Rim planets. Their ship’s more than capable of stealth, and their crew are fighters.”

  
“None of them would betray him, either,” Bail added. “All freed slaves like himself. One of them’s a Wookie, actually, I’ve met her and she’s terrifying.”

  
“She’s not terrifying, Bail,” Ben scolded.

  
Shmi laughed.

  
“She’s nice!” Bail corrected himself. “But I wouldn’t want to fight her, now, would I? No one sane would, for that matter.”

  
They had dinner together, Shmi, Starwind, Bail and Ben, and that night Shmi found she slept a little easier than she had for the past few weeks.


	46. Chapter 46

Aurra couldn’t believe her luck when Shmi Skywalker decided to go for a walk in the undercity of Coruscant, alone. She grabbed her gear and followed. What frustrated her was the changed orders she’d received from the Hutts before she’d left Alderaan – Shmi was to be brought back to Nal Hutta, alive, so that Jabba could take his revenge on her himself. An assassination was easy, killing things was simple, but kidnapping was trickier.

  
Shmi, alone. This would be her best chance.

  
Aurra took the high streets at first, but when she realised Shmi wasn’t heading anywhere in particular she dropped down to the same streets as Shmi and trailed her there. The woman kept glancing back over her shoulder, but she never saw Aurra.

  
Not until it was too late.


	47. Chapter 47

When Shmi came to, her hands were bound, and she was in a metal room, her aching head on the cold floor. She could hear the whirring of an engine, and knew she was on some sort of ship. She breathed out heavily. Surely, someone would notice she was gone. Someone would come for her. In the meantime, she would figure out where she was – and see if she could free herself. She couldn’t budge whatever was tying her arms together, but she could sit up. Looking around didn’t give her any clues, either, and she wasn’t sure if calling out was the best thing to do.

  
Pressing her back against the wall, she walked her feet up the floor until she was standing. There didn’t seem to be any doors. She walked the length of the entire room twice and came to the conclusion she was in some sort of box.

  
A few hours later, she was rewarded with the fact she’d guessed correctly. A familiar-looking white-skinned woman opened the door to the box and smiled at her.

  
“You’ve given me a lot of grief, Skywalker,” she said.

  
“Good,” Shmi snapped. “Who are you?”

  
“Someone who’s gonna get paid well for delivering you,” was the reply. The woman grabbed Shmi’s arm and pulled her out of the box, dragging her through the ship and down the rampart while Shmi asked her questions. She knew she wouldn’t get any answers, but she still tried them; ‘Where are you taking me?’ ‘Where are we?’ ‘Why did you kidnap me?’ and the rest of it.

  
The only response she got was a bruised arm and an angry bounty hunter.


	48. Chapter 48

Wherever she was, it wasn’t Coruscant. It was humid, stank of something awful, and overcast. The speeder the bounty hunter had thrown Shmi into was old and rusty, but it worked, and Shmi got to see the glorious scenery of swampland.

  
“This is lovely,” Shmi said, turning to look at the back of the bounty hunter’s head. “A good place to holiday, I imagine. Come here often?”

  
The bounty hunter didn’t respond.

  
“Because, I was thinking, once I’m done with all the Senate things I’d travel for a bit, but really, I think settling down here would be ideal. Where did you say we were?”

  
Near silence, except for the motor of the speeder and the screeching of something in a far off patch of swamp.

  
They stopped at a building that could probably be called a palace, but looked more like a big tree that had been built up. The bounty hunter pulled Shmi from the speeder and forced her to walk along the solid path towards the palace. She walked behind Shmi, holding onto Shmi’s arm and pushing her along.

  
Inside the building, Shmi was taken to a large, round room, and pushed to her knees. “I’ve brought Skywalker to you,” she said. “Now where’s my money?”

  
Shmi shuddered as the answer came. “Jee hatkocanh gee bu beeska mu-moolee kakouwobana bai uba.”

  
The bounty hunter seemed to accept this answer, and left the room.

  
“Jabba,” said Shmi, and was rewarded with a booming laugh. “Of course. I should have known from the smell.”

  
“Jee toupee uba Jee gee neu uba banieie.”

  
“Good job of that,” said Shmi. “I’m still very much alive, thank you.”

  
She looked up, and saw that Jabba was sitting on a raised platform, flanked by guards. She wasn’t getting out of this alone.

  
“Jee nah banag bai jot uba bolla ban mamou uba,” Jabba sneered. “Lohba, paknee ata uen. Ua noa-a wa sonla, fet Jee joleu see uen.”

  
Shmi shuddered, utterly repulsed by the idea of being anywhere near Jabba’s body. She didn’t struggle as the guards pulled her to her feet, didn’t run when she was taken from the room. It didn’t feel like seven standard years had passed since she had been a slave.

  
They took her to another room in the palace, where there were four other women – two Twi’leks, one red and one blue, another human, and a woman with a trumpet like face and compact body. The latter seemed to be the only one who didn’t seem upset to be there.

  
“Hey kid,” she said. Her voice was high and sort of sounded like a trumpet. “How’d you get here?”

  
Shmi raised an eyebrow, and quirked her head back at the door. “Guards brought me,” she said. The blue Twi’lek laughed at that.

  
The short alien woman laughed, too, and patted Shmi on the arm. “You gotta keep your mouth shut when you’re not in this room, kid,” she said. “An attitude like that…”

  
“You crack wise with Jabba, it doesn’t end well,” the other human supplied. She had a bruise on her cheek, and Shmi felt a gentle wave of rage rise in her.

  
“You’re slaves,” she said quietly. The woman looked at her with sad eyes.

  
“You don’t sound surprised,” the blue Twi’lek said. She stood up, walked over to join Shmi and the shorter woman by the door.

  
“I know Jabba,” Shmi said, an edge to her voice. “So, no, not surprised.”

  
“Let it go,” the Twi’lek put a hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  
Shmi grinned. “I think you’re wrong,” she said. “I’m getting out of here, no doubt about that. When I do, you can come with me.”

  
“Listen to Aklee, kiddo,” the red-skinned Twi’lek. “There’s no way off this rock that’s not a one-way trip.”

  
“No,” said Shmi. “I’m not giving up.” She felt the rage building in her, kept it in check as best she could. Across the room, a vase trembled. She clenched her hands and took a deep breath in. “Da cag see echuta hatkocanh wamma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translator: http://starwars.myrpg.org/coruscant_translator.php  
> \- (Jabba) I’ll have the payment wired to you.  
> \- (Jabba) I told you I’d see you dead.  
> \- (Jabba) I wouldn’t want to let you go without repaying you.  
> \- (Jabba) Guards, take her. She’ll be a dancer until I tire of her.  
> \- (Shmi) That piece of shit will pay!


	49. Chapter 49

Neither Tholme nor his apprentice Quinlan could return to Coruscant to find Shmi. They were away from Alderaan, chasing down the Zygerrian who had hired assassins to kill Ben Organa. Ben himself raised the alarm when Shmi disappeared, and petitioned the Jedi to go after her. Captain Starwind, who hadn’t slept since Shmi’s kidnapping, went with Qui-Gon Jinn, the only Jedi who had a real chance of finding Shmi.

  
Starwind met with Qui-Gon outside the Temple, and from there they left Coruscant together, Qui-Gon following a lead he’d picked up from his friend, Dex.

  
“You seem tense,” he’d commented, when they met.

  
The Captain had looked at him, eyebrows raised. “I’d say I am,” she said. “You’d be surprised how much it can affect someone, losing someone they’re charged to protect.”

  
Qui-Gon had looked at his hands, then, and said nothing.

  
Now they were travelling to Nal Hutta, in the hopes of finding Shmi there. From what Dex’s contacts had told Qui-Gon, that was where the bounty hunter had most likely headed. It seemed reasonable, logical. Jabba had a reason not only to hate Shmi, but to want her. Through his tentative Force-bond with her – one that he would never admit to having – Qui-Gon knew she was still alive.

  
Calla Starwind knew what one Jedi was capable of. She knew that they were, in some ways, worth about ten soldiers in a fight. She’d seen it first hand. Qui-Gon himself had saved her life.

  
She still didn’t trust them.

  
It wasn’t that they had directly given her reason not to trust them. Although, they did hold themselves apart from the general public. They did seem to be an unattainable level of ‘good’ that left the rest of the galaxy feeling lesser. They did claim to be peacekeepers, and show up where war occurred. They did make regular soldiers like herself seem useless. Shmi didn’t seem to trust them, either, and that was enough for Calla.

  
She had to admit to herself, though, that Shmi trusted Qui-Gon. Calla knew how Shmi felt about Qui-Gon, and it mattered to Calla how Shmi felt.

  
“So,” she said. She was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. They hadn’t spoken much to one another since leaving Coruscant. “How come you’ve been avoiding Shmi?”

  
Qui-Gon glanced at her. “I haven’t,” he said. “The Council told me to stay away from her, and when it looked like I wasn’t going to, they made sure I did.”

  
“That’s stupid,” said Calla. “Why would they do that?”

  
“Jedi reasons,” said Qui-Gon, with a small smile.

  
“Which means you’re not going to tell me,” Calla supplied. Qui-Gon shrugged. “You know, you Jedi act so lofty, it’s a wonder you don’t all have bigger heads.”

  
Qui-Gon actually laughed at that. “Sometimes I feel the same,” he said. “I think it’s good for us to leave the Temple, and talk to people who _aren’t_ Jedi. It’s too easy to believe we know what’s best when we’re all sitting around agreeing with one another.”

  
Ah, Calla thought. That’s what Shmi saw.


	50. Chapter 50

The fire was a distraction, and one that Shmi hadn’t expected to work so well. She just had to hope that no one would suffer from her actions. She remembered exactly the way that the bounty hunter had led her through the Hutt’s palace, and she had seen ships – not just speeders. As soon as she thought they were alone, in that room, she told them all her plan.

  
Ty, the short Pa’lowick with the trumpet mouth, was the only one who wanted to stay. “I get paid well,” she said. “I got kids here, who I gotta raise.”

  
The others had agreed to try, without any of the energy Shmi felt.

  
Aklee, the blue Twi’lek woman, knew her way around the palace well. She served food and drinks to the Hutts, as did the human woman, Nobu. Both of them knew where the other slaves in the Hutt palace were kept, and offered to go after them once the guards were distracted. Shmi agreed, and they arranged to meet at the palace’s docking station.

  
Half the palace caught fire.

  
There were some impressive explosions, too. Shmi had no idea swamp gas could be so combustible. She found a ship that she thought she could fly and started it up. Nobu, Aklee, and Mako, the red Twi’lek, arrived at the docking station with nearly a hundred other people. Shmi waved them onboard, as the smoke wafted through the doorway behind them. There was another explosion, this one close by, that shook the platform. Part of it broke off with a mighty snapping sound, and a ship slid into the swamp.

  
Shmi rushed on board behind the last person and went to the cockpit. The ship rose jerkily from the landing pad, which was crumbling beneath them, but she got it airborne. She felt as panicked as if she was feeling the fear of everyone on board the ship. She took a deep breath in and gripped the controls.

  
The swamps of Nal Hutta shrank rapidly as the ship left the atmosphere, and from this far the planet actually looked kind of nice. They passed a ship as they left. Shmi thought whoever was aboard was in for a nasty surprise.


	51. Chapter 51

When Qui-Gon and Captain Starwind reached the palace of the Hutts, they had to set down on an island a little away from the palace itself. The landing bay was wrecked, half sunk into the swamp, and the palace was on fire.

  
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Starwind said.

  
Despite her bad feeling, Qui-Gon and Calla headed to the palace, hoping that if Shmi was there, she was nowhere near the fire.

  
No one was inside the palace. It had been evacuated, and now whoever could help was trying to put out the fire – not the Hutts themselves, of course, because they didn’t have to do their own work. Even without most of their slaves there were people working for them, and the palace was their home as well.

  
Qui-Gon and Calla found Jabba outside, well away from the fire. He glared at them, pointed a finger, and said something to one of his servants, the Twi’lek man from Tatooine. He approached them, and said something in Huttese. When neither Qui-Gon nor Calla reacted, he rolled his red eyes and beckoned for them to come with him.

  
They followed him to Jabba, who looked at them for a moment before speaking. To their relief, he had a silver protocol droid with him, to translate.

  
“The Mighty Jabba wishes to know what brings a Jedi Knight to Nal Hutta,” it translated.

  
“We come seeking Shmi Skywalker,” Qui-Gon replied. “We have reason to believe she is here.”

  
There was a pause while Jabba considered what Qui-Gon had said.

  
“Jabba says you are wrong. Shmi Skywalker is not on Nal Hutta.”

  
“We tracked her here from Coruscant,” said Starwind.

  
“The Mighty Jabba wishes for you to look around and see for yourself,” said the droid. “Shmi Skywalker is not on Nal Hutta.”

  
He gave them permission to search the crowd outside the palace, and to examine the corpses of those who hadn’t made it out in time. Shmi wasn’t amongst them, and when Qui-Gon checked his Force connection of her, he knew Jabba hadn’t quite lied to them. Shmi had been there, but she no longer was. She was still alive, as far as he could tell, and he said as much to Captain Starwind.

  
“Can you tell where she is?”

  
Qui-Gon shook his head. “Not clearly,” he said. “She’s surrounded by noise, and I’m no tracker.”

  
“Well, what do we do now?”

  
Qui-Gon sighed. “I suppose we return to Coruscant. I’ll contact Tholme and the Temple and let them know what’s happening. Perhaps Tholme has a lead.”


	52. Chapter 52

The ship’s hyperdrive was damaged, and Shmi knew she would have to take a risk by landing on another planet. She asked Aklee to find her star charts, to find a place where she might be able to get the hyperdrive fixed.

  
“If we want to leave Hutt Space we need the hyperdrive,” Shmi couldn’t believe she had to explain what the hyperdrive was for, but she tried to be patient. She knew that not everyone understood ships.

  
“The Toydarians are slavers,” Nobu said, looking at the star charts. “But they’re close, and they’re usually willing to deal with the Hutts. If you can convince them we’re not runaways…”

  
Shmi rubbed her temples. “It’s never kriffing easy, is it,” she said.

  
“Every planet around here is controlled by the Hutts,” said Aklee. “Of course it’s not going to be easy.”

  
“Is the comm system still working?” Shmi asked, turning her attention to one of the slaves they’d rescued from the palace. They had introduced themselves as Sela, and they were a small, brown-skinned human who claimed to be a mechanic.

  
“Yes,” they said. “Long range communications are possible.”

  
“Then I’ll call Coruscant,” Shmi said. “The Republic is bound to send aid, of some sort.”


	53. Chapter 53

If the Jedi believed in luck, Qui-Gon would have said it was pure luck that they picked up the communication from Shmi’s ship. As it was, it took him a moment to recognise her voice. It was Calla who shouted, “Shmi!” and fiddled with the controls until she was able to hear Shmi properly.

  
“It’s a distress call,” she said quietly. “Hang on, I’ll –” she tapped something out on the comm board, and said, “Shmi Skywalker, this is Captain Calla Starwind, do you copy?”

  
There was a silence, and then, “Calla?”

  
“Shmi!”

  
“Where are you? How are you talking to me?”

  
“We’re in the space outside Nal Hutta, where are you?”

  
“I’ll send you our coordinates,” Shmi said.

  
Calla read them out to Qui-Gon, and they took their ship in the right direction.


	54. Chapter 54

Shmi made sure that Captain Starwind’s ship docked to hers properly, and ran down to the bridge to greet her. She threw her arms around Calla, saying, “Am I glad to see you!”

  
“I was so worried,” said Starwind. “Who… who are these people?”

  
She was looking at Aklee, Nobu, and the other freed slaves who had followed Shmi to the bridge.

  
“Oh, they’re citizens of the Republic,” Shmi answered with a smile. “They’re coming to Coruscant with us. Only,” she rubbed her chin. “The hyperdrive on this ship is broken.”

  
“How many are there?”

  
“I haven’t counted,” Shmi replied, “But I think… a lot? Your ship doesn’t look too big.”

  
“But it has a working hyperdrive,” said Starwind.

  
“We can use that,” said Sela. Starwind looked at them, and Sela glanced away. “I can install your hyperdrive to this ship, although it’s not a permanent solution.”

  
“You’re handy,” Starwind said. “All right, get to it, then. What’s your name?”

  
“Sela.”

  
“Sela, you come with me, and grab as many people as you need.” Starwind kissed Shmi on the cheek, and said, “I’m glad to see you safe.”

  
Shmi squeezed her hand, and let her go. Sela and a few others followed Starwind off the Hutt ship. It was then Shmi let herself notice Qui-Gon, standing apart from everyone. He walked over to her, and said, “It’s been a while.”

  
She looked him in the eyes, and said, “It has.”

  
He didn’t speak. Hesitantly, he held out his hand, and placed it gently on her shoulder. She placed her hand atop his and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath in, she said, “When we get back to Coruscant, they’re just going to, well, separate us again.” She opened her eyes.

  
“I know,” said Qui-Gon. His voice was gentle, and his face calm. “They only sent me because I had the best chance of finding you. The Council… Master Yoda believes the best thing for me is to rid myself of attachment. He’s had me meditating, as well as mediating and negotiating across the galaxy.”

  
“Sounds like fun,” Shmi said dryly. Qui-Gon chuckled. Shmi smiled at him. “So, what’s the plan? Deliver me back to Coruscant and… hope for the best?”

  
Qui-Gon took his hand away. “I don’t know,” he said. “I have a duty to the Galaxy, to the Republic, and I can’t put you before that.”

  
Shmi rolled her eyes. “I’m not asking you to,” she said. “But you’re my friend. I should be able to spend time with you without your Masters telling you it’s wrong.”

  
“That’s not how it works, not for Jedi.”

  
“Can we have this talk later?” Shmi turned away from him, as Sela and the others returned to the Hutt ship with various machinery. “I want to help with this. You can lend a hand.”


	55. Chapter 55

He tried talking to her while they installed the hyperdrive, but she refused to listen. “I’m not asking you to put me before the entire Galaxy,” she said, “And I’m tired of this – this – sanctimonious attitude I’ve seen in every Jedi I’ve met. Think about how you sound to people like me, and then we can talk.”

  
“I wouldn’t talk to him like that,” Nobu whispered to Starwind. “She’s going to get hurt.”

  
Starwind shook her head, smiling, “They’re old friends,” she said. “And, well, Shmi has no problem speaking her mind.”

  
“I noticed,” Nobu replied, almost scowling.

  
Starwind raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

  
“Well,” said Nobu, looking up at Starwind. Nobu was nearly half the height of the Captain, but she didn’t seem to be intimidated by the height difference. “It can get you killed. Or worse.”

  
“Shmi knows that,” Starwind said gently. “She wouldn’t risk others that way.”

  
“She certainly managed to convince us to risk ourselves,” Nobu replied. She sighed. “I’m not… upset to be free,” she said. “That’s not it, not at all. I just wish… I don’t know. I wish I wasn’t afraid. I wish this made sense.”

  
Starwind patted Nobu’s hand. “I can understand that,” she said. “Sometimes, I think nothing in the Galaxy makes sense.”

  
“You’ve told me that before!” Shmi was saying. “It’s all you ever say, really. It doesn’t have to be all-or-nothing, Qui-Gon.”

  
“What are they talking about?” Nobu asked. She was looking at them, frowning, and when she looked back at Starwind she said, “It doesn’t seem as important as fixing the hyperdrive.”

  
“It’s done,” said Starwind. “They can argue while we’re in hyperspace. Shmi?”

  
Shmi looked over to them, and said, “Yes?”

  
“It’s fixed, we can head off.”

  
Shmi smiled, and said, “Well, let’s get going then, before the Hutts catch up with us.”


	56. Chapter 56

They reached the Core with ease, Sela’s knowledge of mechanics keeping the hyperdrive in good condition while they moved at lightspeed. Qui-Gon contacted the Temple, Shmi contacted the Senate, and they were allowed to land at the Senate’s shipyard.

  
Ben Organa was waiting for them, along with several other senators. They welcomed the hundred-or-so freed slaves to Coruscant, although Shmi could tell that only a few of them were actually pleased to see her. The Jedi Knights Tholme and Quinlan Vos were not there, having traced Ben Organa’s assailant to Zygerria. They were currently on the slaver planet, searching. Two other Jedi were waiting to greet Qui-Gon, Jedi Masters Yoda and Mace Windu. They greeted Qui-Gon discreetly, aside from the main welcoming party.

  
“Required further, your services are,” Yoda told him, looking up at Qui-Gon. “Protect Skywalker, you will. Angered the Hutts she has again, and safe, she is not.”

  
Qui-Gon didn’t question Yoda’s directions, although he wanted to know what had changed the Jedi Master’s mind about him being around Shmi. “Yes, Master,” he said. “Will I be acting as her bodyguard?”

  
Yoda inclined his head in a nod.

  
“Master Sifo Dyas has had… visions, of a sort, involving Madame Skywalker,” Master Windu said. “She is important, in some way or another, and we need to keep an eye on her.”

  
“Visions?” Qui-Gon hoped he sounded interested in the way he was supposed to be.

  
“Vague ones,” said Windu. “But he tells us there’s something big on the horizon, something that will affect the entire galaxy, and Madame Skywalker…”

  
“A catalyst she will be, Sifo Dyas believes. Of what, he cannot say.”


	57. Chapter 57

“The Hutts had me kidnapped, for daring to speak out against them,” Shmi stood before the Senate, dressed in her most sensible clothing, her hair tied back. Her heart was racing, and behind her stood Captain Starwind and Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn.

  
She was in the centre of the Grand Convocation Chamber, surrounded by over a thousand representatives from other Republic planets. Without the microphone in her repulsorpod, Shmi wouldn’t have been heard by anyone in the room.

  
“They are afraid of the power of the Republic, the power that we have over their slave empire. With a handful of people I have managed to liberate the planet of Tatooine, and disrupt that section of the slave trade in the Outer Rim. With help from the honourable Senator of Naboo, I have managed to find homes for freed slaves who are willing to work for a better life within the Republic. Recently, I have helped liberate those enslaved to Jabba the Hutt, and they have travelled with me to Coruscant.

  
“I am here to once again put forward the motion that Republic forces should be posted to the Outer Rim in order to put an end to the slave trade once and for all. Not only will this bring more planets into the democracy of the Republic, it will open up trade opportunities with the Outer Rim. This action can only benefit the Republic.

  
“I ask of you, Senators, to consider what your people can do for those who were not given the same choices, the same privileges as you. I have the word of certain representatives that their people are willing to provide safe harbour for refugees, or to provide food, medicine, or troops to this cause. We all live in this Galaxy, although it may be difficult to see the Outer Rim from the Core, it still deserves our protection.”

  
“Well spoken,” Captain Starwind murmured to her.

  
There was an outpouring of noise from the other Senators, and Shmi could barely tell if she had swayed anyone to her side. Chancellor Valorum stood, his pod moving to the centre of the Chamber. He held his hands in the air, and motioned for silence. It took a minute, but the Senate settled.

  
“If there is anyone who wishes to speak in opposition to this bill, now is the time,” said Chancellor Valorum. “Otherwise we will put it to the vote.”

  
They waited. Shmi wasn’t sure what she wanted to happen. If someone spoke against her, it would give her grounds to clarify herself – she would know where people doubted her and know how to talk them through their doubts. If no one spoke up, she wouldn’t know how people felt until the vote had passed.

  
No one spoke. She would have to wait. She, Qui-Gon, and Starwind returned to their place at the edge of the Chamber.

  
The Senate couldn’t exactly be called efficient, but when it came time to the actual vote, it seemed the tension and waiting had been for nothing. Or everything, depending on the outcome. They pressed some buttons on the control panels in their pods, and then the vote was done.


	58. Chapter 58

“We can try again.”

  
They sat together around the table in Ben Organa’s sitting room. Ben, Bail, and Senator Nina Bonteri of Onderon were drinking wine, Qui-Gon and Starwind had water, and Shmi, Senator Brith Chuchi of Chandrila, and Senator Yarua of Karshyyk each had a glass of Tatooine Sunburn that Shmi had mixed for them. The Jedi Knight Depa Billaba, former Padawan to Mace Windu, had been assigned to protect the Organas, and was keeping guard in the shadows of Ben’s apartment.

  
“There is something wrong with the Senate,” said Nina, sipping her wine. “Everyone I talked to about this motion seemed to be on our side. I was sure we had the vote.”

  
“Trying again won’t work unless we have a lot more money,” Brith said ominously. “I have no doubts that the Hutts and Zygerrians and everyone else involved in the slave trade paid off half the Senate to stop us.”

  
“We can try a different way,” said Ben. “Democracy works, we can make it work if…”

  
“If what, Ben?” Shmi asked. She’d had a bit more to drink than the others. “If we work hard? If we talk to more people?”

  
“Shmi…” Starwind reached out to pat Shmi on the hand, “I understand why you feel bitter, but that won’t change anything.”

  
“Let me be bitter for now,” said Shmi. “I’ll fix everything in the morning, but for now, I want to drink and complain.”

  
Yarua, the Wookie, made an affirmative noise in Shyriiwook, and finished her drink. She held out her glass for a refill, and Shmi grabbed it, standing up with some effort. “Anyone else need a refill?” she asked, and was handed three other glasses. “Cocktail, water, wine,” she said to herself, and went off to the kitchen.

  
Qui-Gon and Starwind shared a look. Starwind stood and followed Shmi to the kitchen. “Thought you’d need a hand,” she said, taking two of the glasses from Shmi and setting them down on the counter.

  
“I’m fine, Calla,” said Shmi. She frowned, her mouth twisting. “Actually, I’m sick of this. Nobody seems to care about people here, just money.”

  
Starwind tried to look sympathetic, and put her hand on Shmi’s shoulder.

  
“Don’t tell me that’s just how things are, either,” said Shmi. “Things being ‘how they are’ is what’s keeping the slave trade going.”

  
“I know that, Shmi,” said Starwind. “You know that I’m for whatever you’re for, you know that. I just wanted to make sure you would be okay.”

  
Shmi sighed, and leaned forward to let Starwind hug her. She rested her forehead on Starwind’s shoulder, and said, “I don’t know, Calla. I don’t think I know what okay is.”

  
Starwind kept her arms around Shmi until Shmi moved away. “Thank you, Calla,” Shmi said. She kissed her gently. “Thank you.”

  
Starwind smiled. “We’ll get those drinks back to our friends, hey,” she said. “I’ve never seen a Wookie denied a drink.”

  
Shmi and Starwind brought the drinks back to the table, and sat down together, side by side. Shmi handed the drinks back to the drinkers and said, “Well, we might not be able to change things right now, but I’m feeling better.”

  
Ben smiled at her, and said, “A toast, then,” he held out his glass. “To democracy.”


	59. Chapter 59

Shmi left Coruscant a few weeks later to visit Tatooine. In her place in the Senate she left Tatooine’s newly elected Representative, Zofi D’jek, a Bith woman born and raised on Tatooine. She had talked to Shmi a few times before her arrival on Coruscant, and had worked with Kasari and Yula while on Tatooine. Her arrival gave Shmi the chance to leave the Senate, and she jumped to take it. With Qui-Gon and Starwind, she left the city-planet and headed for home.

  
Tatooine was as arid as she remembered, its two suns baking the planet bone dry. Jira, with Joi and her son, Fenn, were waiting in the spaceport when Shmi’s ship landed. They welcomed Shmi home, Jira giving her a warm hug. The old woman looked even older and more weathered than Shmi remembered, but there was still light in her eyes. Joi’s stomach was bigger, and Shmi surmised that her friend was once again pregnant. Fenn, her son, hid behind his mother, staring at the strangers with wide brown eyes. Qui-Gon smiled at the boy, and he hid his face in Joi’s skirts.

  
“It’s so good to see you,” Jira said, as they left the spaceport. “It’s been so long.”

  
“Has Coruscant changed much?” Joi asked.

  
Shmi smiled. “If it has, I haven’t noticed,” she said.

  
“You look well,” Jira commented. She took Shmi’s hand in her own and walked by her side. “Politics is treating you well.”

  
Shmi laughed at that, and said, “Doesn’t feel that way. I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years since becoming a Senator.”

  
They travelled through Mos Espa together, and Shmi was astounded to see the changes that had happened in the few years since she had crash landed on Tatooine. The buildings were cleaner, although a lot of her memories were from the civil war she had lived through. There were more people on the streets of Mos Espa, and fewer of them seemed to be criminals. To a casual viewer, the changes would have been impossible to describe, but Shmi could see it. The people there carried themselves with confidence they hadn’t before, too, and a few of them seemed to recognise Shmi, stopping to stare at her, or point her out to their companions.

  
Starwind walked to Shmi’s side and commented on this. Shmi looked around and said, “I doubt they recognise me.”

  
“You did a lot for Tatooine, Shmi,” Jira said. “You were everywhere for a while, especially during the war. It’s not been so long that people have forgotten.”

  
“That, and we do get the HoloNet here,” Joi smiled. She’d picked Fenn up, as he’d complained to her his feet were tired, and now he was riding on her shoulders. “You’ve been in the news a bit.”

  
Jira’s lips pressed thin, and she said, “We’ve been worried about you. Yula, Kasari and I, we’ve been worried. It’s good to see you safe and sound.”

  
Kasari and Yula had made the journey to Mos Espa to meet with Shmi. They would be returning to the seat of Tatooine’s government with Shmi, as Shmi’s journey to Tatooine had been okayed on the condition that she worked while she was there. The people of Tatooine had repurposed Jabba’s Palace as the seat of parliament. From what Shmi had heard, there was a settlement springing up around the palace, and the great iron doors that had separated Jabba from the rest of Tatooine had been opened to the people.

  
For now, Shmi could see her mothers in the comfort of a place where she felt at home.

  
Jira and Joi, with Dain’s help, had knocked out the wall between their houses. Shmi stopped as she walked into the house and said, “This looks good.”

  
“Spacious,” Starwind added.

  
Fenn fled to his room, and Joi smiled apologetically before going after him. Kasari and Yula were sitting together at Jira’s table, drinking tea. Yula jumped to her feet when she saw Shmi, and ran over to embrace her. Once she had done that, and kissed Shmi on either cheek, she turned to Qui-Gon to kiss him on the cheek. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do that, and after that she greeted Starwind in the same enthusiastic fashion. Kasari moved to hug Shmi, and Shmi rested her head on Kasari’s shoulder, breathing in the spicy scent that the desert planet had left on the tall Togruta.

  
“I’ve missed you, Mom,” she said quietly.

  
Kasari patted Shmi’s hair. “We’ve missed you, too, Shmi,” she said.


	60. Chapter 60

Shmi was waiting for the Hutts to come after her again. Starwind had promised that the Senate’s security would keep an ear to the ground for anything, but Shmi didn’t trust the Senate. Despite being officially kicked off Tatooine, Jabba still had influence on the planet. She wasn’t sure how many of the freed slaves were safe, but she had done all she could for them. Ben Organa had promised to find refuge for them, with the help of Durandal and Elias. She knew she couldn’t do more than she was doing, but it still hurt her that she couldn’t fix everything.

  
So when she visited Jabba’s palace on Tatooine with Kasari and Yula, she was sure that she’d see a familiar face. She kept waiting for a flash of bright red hair, to see blue-and-silver armour, or even the pink skin of Bib Fortuna. She could feel her shoulders tensing, and tried to relax so she wouldn’t get a headache. She jumped when Starwind touched her shoulder, and Starwind took hold of her hand.

  
“Is something wrong?” she asked Shmi.

  
Shmi shook her head. “Just nervous,” she whispered. Starwind squeezed her hand then let go, stepping back into the role of bodyguard once more.

  
They were following Kasari, who was leading them through the palace, giving them the tour. They had seen the shanty-town outside, and the way it was moving inside the palace itself. Shmi had met a few of the elected officials of Tatooine, shaken hands and learned names, and tried to convince herself they were staring at Qui-Gon. She knew they were not.

  
Kasari took them through to the central hall, where issues, ideas, and other politics were discussed by the local government. Shmi knew she’d had a hand in creating this, but it felt foreign to her. The chamber in the Senate was one thing, but in here, people could actually hear each other speak without microphones. Kasari explained that she mediated the meetings more than directed them, but she added that she didn’t have much of a job to do anyway. Shmi wondered what it would be like to have a discussion with a politician, rather than an argument. The people of Tatooine had been through enough under the rule of slavers and crime lords. Kasari and Yula had chosen good people, too, to take care of the planet. And it all came through to Shmi, and she had to argue with people who didn’t care about her backwater planet on the Outer Rim. It wasn’t even her home.

  
Shmi refocused her thoughts on Kasari, Yula, Jira, and all the people she had met on Tatooine during the war.

  
She took a deep breath in, let it out, and smiled. Then she made herself listen to Kasari once again.


	61. Chapter 61

She couldn’t sleep.

  
They had returned to Kasari and Yula’s house – it was a nice, simple place. Two floors, one underground, built a little ways away from the palace. There were plenty of rooms, and Kasari and Yula had use for them all. They had adopted nearly a dozen children orphaned by the war.

  
The kids weren’t the reason Shmi couldn’t sleep. It was the dead of night, and everyone else was in bed, but Shmi had struggled to even relax enough to lie down. So she stood in the cool desert air, looking up at the stars, hands behind her back as she waited for her fear to pass.

  
It hadn’t.

  
“You’re afraid.”

  
Qui-Gon spoke softly, but she still jumped. Shmi turned around and saw the shadowy figures of Qui-Gon and Starwind, standing behind her.

  
She nodded in response to Qui-Gon, and they moved to her side, flanking her. Starwind took her hand, and said, “Is there anything we can do?”

  
“I’m just worried,” Shmi said. “I’ve had… fears, for weeks, that the Hutts are going to come after me.”

  
“We haven’t heard anything about it,” said Starwind gently. “The Hutts have been silent. Jabba’s disappeared.”

  
“Disappeared?” Shmi asked.

  
“Gone underground,” Starwind clarified. “Deep. We haven’t heard anything about him for a while.”

  
“Doesn’t mean he’s not planning something,” Shmi said. She sighed.

  
“Shmi,” Qui-Gon’s voice was gentle, warmer than the night of the desert. “We will protect you. And we know you can protect yourself. Calla and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

  
They walked with her back to the house. Shmi’s bedroom had the largest bed, and so they came with her to her room, and lay down on either side of her. Calla put her arms around Shmi, and Shmi rested her head on the pillow. Qui-Gon held Shmi’s hands in his. Shmi closed her eyes, and, eventually, fell asleep.


	62. Chapter 62

The Galaxy continued on, as it does.

  
Qui-Gon achieved the rank of Jedi Master, a little while after he stopped working as Shmi’s bodyguard. Shmi and Calla continued to work together, as the Republic hadn’t entirely discounted the threat of the Hutts. They both saw less of Qui-Gon as he took an apprentice. The two of them, Qui-Gon and his Padawan, were kept busy with ‘Jedi business’ across the galaxy.

  
Every attempt by Ben Organa and Shmi to petition the Senate was blocked, inexplicably in some cases. There were rumours that the Chancellor was corrupt, rumours that certain planets were going to leave the Republic and form their own government. Chom Frey Kaa, the senate representative for the Twi’lek people of the Gaulus sector, disappeared. Bail Organa married Breha, and Ben began preparing for his son to take his place in the Senate. Nina Bonteri began bringing her daughter to the Senate, mentoring her to take Nina’s place. Brith, the Senator of Chandrila, was succeeded by a human woman, Mon Mothma. Brith introduced Mon to Shmi when she arrived on Coruscant.

  
The Senator of Naboo introduced himself to Shmi, Bail and Ben, and said he supported their cause in the Outer Rim. Shmi wasn’t sure she believed him. She hardly believed any of the Senators who professed to support their cause, simply because their cause was continuously rebuffed by the Senate.

  
In the Outer Rim, Kasari and Yula’s family grew, although Shmi rarely had time to visit them. Joi and Dain sent her updates on their children, and on Jira. The Hutts and pirates and bounty hunters continued their trades without targeting Shmi. Tatooine seemed to be thriving, even if the occasional scum tried to take it back. More planets in the Outer Rim were catching the eye of the Republic.

  
Many Outer Rim planets had followed Tatooine’s example. Some had succeeded in joining the Republic. Others had failed. As always, people had died. Yet, as always, people had also lived. There was always life, and there was always death. And the Galaxy continued on.

  
Then Shmi Skywalker realised she was pregnant.

  
She told Calla first, and Calla had to sit down to process the news. The first thing Calla asked was, “How?”

  
Shmi sat down beside her, and said, “I don’t know.”

  
“You haven’t been with…”

  
Shmi shook her head. “I don’t know how it happened.”

  
“Are you going to... what are you going to do?”

  
Shmi looked down at her belly, and said, “I don’t know.”

  
Calla took hold of Shmi’s hand, and kissed the back of it gently. “Whatever you choose to do, you know I’ll support your choice.”

  
Shmi rested her head on Calla’s shoulder, and said, “I know.”


	63. Chapter 63

Shmi chose to keep the baby. Initially, she didn’t have to explain anything to anyone. Calla procured a Med-Droid to make sure the baby and mother were both healthy. When Shmi was sure the baby was growing well, she told her family. Kasari couldn’t stop smiling, and Yula nearly broke her respirator with excitement. For the next few weeks after Shmi told them, they both sent her hundreds of potential names for the child.

  
When she began to show, she didn’t hide it. She got looks from Senators, but Bail congratulated her heartily. He was young, for a Senator, but he was following well in his father’s footsteps. Ben had gone home to Alderaan, and Shmi had contacted him and Mazicia to tell them the news.

  
Everyone asked who the father was, and Shmi mostly told them it was none of their business. To those she trusted, to her family and close friends, she tried to explain that she didn’t know who the father was, that by her calculations there couldn’t be a father.

  
Qui-Gon she met at Dex’s diner, for lunch. It had been a year or so since she’d seen him last, and she had never before met his Padawan. Qui-Gon hadn’t mentioned bringing his apprentice to their lunch, but when Shmi arrived at the diner with Calla by her side, Qui-Gon and a young human man were waiting in their booth. The young man had the pulled-back tail and side-braid of a Jedi Padawan, and an eager look about him. He wasn’t much more than a child to Shmi’s eyes, definitely less than half her age. He smiled widely and stood to greet them, following Qui-Gon’s lead. Shmi and Qui-Gon embraced, and kissed each other on the cheek.

  
“It’s good to see you, Shmi,” said Qui-Gon. “Calla,” Starwind nodded at him, and he smiled. “This is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

  
Obi-Wan leaned over the table to shake Shmi and Calla’s hands. “Nice to meet you,” he said. His voice was cracking, as it did with boys of his age. “Qui-Gon’s told me a lot about you. Is it true you burnt down the Hutt’s palace?”

  
Shmi laughed as she took her seat at the booth. Calla sat next to her, and Qui-Gon across from Shmi. “Yeah,” said Shmi. “I had help, though. What’s it like, learning under Qui-Gon?”

  
Obi-Wan grinned. His smile was infectious. “Oh, you know,” he said. “He’s good, he’s a good teacher. I’m learning a lot.”

  
“He’s learning patience,” Qui-Gon added, and thanked the droid who brought them their order.

  
“Yes, I am,” said Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon pretended not to see the look his apprentice shot him.

  
“Patience is a good thing to learn,” Calla commented, after ordering her and Shmi’s meals from the droid. “I’m sure.”

  
“Is that all you’re learning, then?” Shmi asked, smiling. “Just patience? You could teach yourself that, couldn’t you?”

  
“Well, I suppose, but Master Qui-Gon is teaching me other things too,” Obi-Wan didn’t miss a beat. “Like, my skills with a lightsaber have improved tenfold, and I’ve been to all sorts of places, and meeting all sorts of people, and I’m learning other languages and how to –”

  
“Breathe, my young Padawan,” said Qui-Gon, smiling. “Shmi came here to tell me something, and I would like to hear what it is she wants to say.”

  
Shmi took a deep breath in. She hadn’t planned on extra company, or on telling another Jedi her news. She wasn’t sure if she wanted the Jedi to know. For so long she had thought of Qui-Gon as separate from the Jedi. Seeing him with his Padawan was a sharp reminder that she was wrong.

  
She breathed out, and said, “I suppose there’s no other way to say this. I’m… pregnant.”

  
Qui-Gon’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “I suppose congratulations are in order, then,” he said.

  
Shmi raised a hand to stop him from talking. “Before you ask, no, I don’t know who the father is.”

  
“I wasn’t going to ask,” he said. “I was going to ask if you’d thought of any names.”

  
Shmi smiled. “None as of yet.”

  
They talked a little more about what they had been up to, Obi-Wan hanging on to every word they said. He didn’t seem bothered to be the odd one out.

  
Their lunch ended when Qui-Gon’s comm beeped. “Master Sifo Dyas wants to see me,” he said. “He’s been saying something is moving, in the Force, something big is happening. Come on, Obi-Wan,” he stood up, and Obi-Wan followed. “Sifo Dyas may have something. Even Master Yoda’s been saying something’s shifting.”

  
“Why are you telling them?” asked Obi-Wan. He’d whispered, but Shmi had heard him anyway. He had to stand on his tip toes to reach Qui-Gon’s ear.

  
Qui-Gon shrugged, and answered in his regular voice, “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

  
“They’re not Jedi,” Obi-Wan sounded worried.

  
“It’s okay, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon ruffled the boy’s hair. “I trust them. They know Sifo Dyas. And we don’t really have any big Jedi secrets to spill to them, anyway.”

  
Shmi stood up to say goodbye, farewelling him with a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. Obi-Wan shook her hand again, looking at her with slight suspicion in his eyes.


	64. Chapter 64

The next week Shmi was summoned to meet with Grand Master Yoda. Jedi Master Sifo Dyas escorted Shmi and Starwind to the Temple, and accompanied them to the room where Yoda and Qui-Gon waited.

  
“What did you wish to speak to me about?” Shmi asked. She stood in the centre of a circle of seats, her arms crossed against her chest, Calla at her side.

  
“A delicate matter, this is,” Yoda replied. He looked from Shmi to Qui-Gon, and then back to Shmi. “So ask directly, I shall. Pregnant you are.”

  
Shmi nodded.

  
“The father, you say you do not know. Qui-Gon, it is not?”

  
Shmi raised her eyebrows, and shook her head. “No, of course not,” she said.

  
Yoda pressed his lips together, and said, “Believe you I do. Lying you are not.”

  
There was a moment of silence, and then Shmi said, “Is that all?”

  
Qui-Gon smiled, but the other two remained grave.

  
“Leave, you may,” said Yoda. “Speak with Qui-Gon, I must.”

  
As Shmi turned to leave, something hit her. “If the child… if this was Qui-Gon’s child,” she said. “What would that mean for him?”

  
Sifo Dyas answered. “Expulsion from the Jedi Order.”

  
“Ah,” said Shmi, glancing at him. “Good thing it’s not, then.”

  
Sifo Dyas walked with Shmi and Starwind through the Temple. Before they got into their speeder, he took hold of her arm and said, “Shmi, what I told you so long ago on Tatooine. Do you remember?”

  
Shmi shook her head.

  
“I feel things are coming to a head. Something was set in motion, long ago, something… unclear. Hearing what happened on Tatooine, I thought, maybe that was the fight I had foreseen.” He shook his head slowly. “I cannot see clearly. But the Force surrounds you like no other, and whatever is coming…” He sighed, and let go of Shmi’s arm. “We will all be caught in this storm, Shmi Skywalker, but you may become its eye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be continued in a later fic.


End file.
